


Forsaken

by obidalanetwork_archivist



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Incomplete, Movie: Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-09
Updated: 2008-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obidalanetwork_archivist/pseuds/obidalanetwork_archivist
Summary: Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...
Collections: Obidala Network





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Nadia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Obidala Network](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Obidala_Network) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2020. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Obidala Network’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/obidalanetwork/profile).

Chapter 1

There is no emotion, there is peace.  
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.  
There is no passion, there is serenity.  
There is no chaos, there is harmony.  
There is no death, there is the Force

\--

Obi-wan impatiently shifted his feet beneath him and lifted his gaze towards his master, who was kneeling beside him with a serene expression on his older and bearded face. Qui-gon Jinn, who was both Obi-wan’s master and closest friend, returned his padawan’s gaze with an expression unable to be read.

“Patience.” He softly murmured and shifted his folded arm so that the long cloak was parted from the lightsabre at his side. Obi-wan nodded and allowed his lids to close over his eyes, breathing in deep and feeling the force move through him and settle within his conscience. Stillness filtered in his limbs and silence pierced his ears…all except for the shallow breathing of Qui-gon at his side, his heart shallowly drumming in his ears, and-

“Whatsa wesa waitin’ for?” Their Gungan companion, JarJar Binks, asked with obvious confusion and obnoxious impatience as he glanced around with his large ears flopping on his shoulders. Obi-wan opened his eyes with a closed smile and exchanged a look with Qui-gon. JarJar had been helpful when emerging from the planet core, but now he was proving to be a bit of a burden, as they were attempting to remain unnoticed. The droids were entirely consuming the great city of Theed in the Trade Federation’s attempt to blockade the Naboo, and although it had been fairly easy to maneuver into the path that Queen Amidala, Governor Bibble, and the Queen’s handmaidens were being escorted down, they must never overplay their luck. The two Jedi and the Gungan were now crouched in an archway over one of the main routes of the city, and just below them more than a dozen droids were marching the Queen in her elaborate gown. At Qui-gon’s signal, Obi-wan leapt through the pillared archway, taking the yelping JarJar with him as he landed gracefully upon his feet and immediately drew his sabre to action. Guns were fired in his direction, and with a swift rotation of his lightsabre in his palm, the beam of his blade reflected the droids’ attacks and in turn shot them down. Between the master and the apprentice, the droids were deflected easily, and they were left to lead the Queen and her company to safety.

As they ran, Obi-wan allowed his master to explain the situation at hand while he remained thoughtfully silent and attempted to sense the emotions of those around him- fear, thoughtfulness, anger, dismay…Obi-wan winced at the emotions pulsing from those he now walked beside, and his eyes were drawn to the smaller figure of one of the Queen’s handmaidens, who was clad in an orange garment that hid her facial features well. There was an a barricade of strength cloaking many of her emotions, and at sensing the courage reinforcing her feelings, Obi-wan quickly backed down and allowed his mind to wander back to the situation at hand…Qui-gon always insisted upon not reaching too deeply into the perception of emotions- only to gain enough of an understanding to feel one’s intentions. It was a learner’s flaw to anxiously reach into someone’s soul and grasp his or her conscience…not to mention, a bad and hasty idea.

“Either choice presents a great risk…to all of us…” Queen Amidala replied to Qui-gon’s laid options. Again, Obi-wan resisted the urge of impatience. There is no emotion, there is peace…emotion included impatience, which could lead to anger…Yoda would say so, for Obi-wan and been councilled by him enough to know that the great Jedi Master disproved of his reoccuring human flaws. He had been trained long enough to be able to resist the resounding occurance of emotions…and yet so suddenly, they seemed harder to resist. The young jedi silently scolded himself and turned his gaze away to avert any attention- now was not the time to ponder his flaws.

“We are brave, Your Highness.” Her voice was soft and shallow, and yet clear and representing the strength Obi-wan had sensed when feeling her mind. His eyes drifted back over to the handmaiden whom had spoken in response the the Queen’s comment, and was startled to meet her gaze and lock with it for a split second. Her eyes, though shadowed by the lid of her orange garments, peered out at him with depth and distinguishable bravery glinting in a beautiful shade of oak brown. Just as suddenly as the chain between them had been made, it was broken- the handmaiden dropped her eyes and her attention obviously returned to the Queen. Obi-wan stirred, discomforted for a moment, and then refocused his mind upon his master with no more thought to the young woman.

“If you are to leave, Your Highness, it must be now.” Qui-gon’s voice carried an urgency that was to be expected, Obi-wan realized as his eyes glanced over the droid-filled hanger just around the corner. So that was it then- Obi-wan acknowledged the plot and agreed with the Queen’s choice…she would take up their plead with the Senate, as little could be done to aid their cause while Theed was so overrun. With final words to the Governor, the group parted into halves, and they began their march through the hanger. The pilots needed to be freed, Captain Panaka pointed out, and Obi-wan confidently made his march towards the droids surrounding them. He silently counted the small robotic bodies with their guns and allowed his hand to reach for the lightsabre at his hip; at hearing Qui-gon strike down the first of the droids in the hanger, he leapt gracefully through the air and easilly broke down the droids imprisoning the pilots.

Moments later, they were aboard the ship that would carry them to safety…however, they were not out of danger’s way yet. Obi-wan personally escorted Amidala and her maidens to a room where they would remain for the duration of the trip, and then quickly ran to the bridge of the ship to aid in whatever ways he could. JarJar was proving to be more and more of a complication, so by Qui-gon’s unspoken request Obi-wan took him to the droid hold to remain until they were out of danger.

“Now stay here…and keep out of trouble!” He said with a half-smile and left the Gungan with the droids. As he continued down the hallway, the ship rocked and he slid into the wall at his side, only to straighten up and continue running with only more urgency. They were obviously being fired at, and their sheilds tested, and by the sound of their pilot’s desperate voice coming from the bridge, the droids weren’t doing well. He peered over the machinery on the bridge, examining the technical report and screening from overhead, and then informed the others-

“We’re losing droids- fast!” The young jedi ground his teeth and focused his mind upon what was happening outside of the ship, with the enemies that were firing at them with hopes of stopping their rescue. Master- he mentally connected with Qui-gon, pleading for answers that he could not speak outloud for worry of alarming the crew. Qui-gon, who had been hovering behind the pilot’s chair, turned a slow gaze to Obi-wan and gave him a long and defining look that could only have meant one thing: Patience.

As though Qui-gon had foreseen their victory, their shields were repaired by a single droid, and they departed from the turmoil surrounding Naboo with little problems…except for the damage already done to the ship. Not to mention their mission as assigned by Chancellor Valorum would not be completed until the Queen was entirely safe and the dispute between the corrupted Trade Federation was ended. Obi-wan reviwed the damage- they would not make it to Coruscant, that much was obvious and did not need to be spoken to be understood.

“We’ll have to land somewhere to refuel and repair the ship.” Qui-gon informed them, and Obi-wan immediately turned his attention to the star-chart. Patience- he reminded himself as he somewhat quickly scanned planets and their coordinates. There! He anxiously told himself, seeing a distant planet. He reviewed some information about it and nodded- this was the one, though he could already sense that Captain Panaka would disagree.

“Here, Master. Tatooine... It's small, out of the way, poor... The Trade Federation has no presence there.” Obi-wan told Qui-gon comfortably, fighting pride. Yoda always told him that he still rebounded from the prideful exhibition of youthful Jedi…it was true, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have the conscience to fight it. Pride was a strong ally of the dark side, of which Obi-wan would dare not mingle.

“How can you be sure?” The captain asked with concern. Obi-wan filtered a smile- of course the captain would question them, even if they were Jedi. It was his duty, just as it was Obi-wan’s duty to also protect the Queen. But this was the only way.

“It’s controlled by the Hutts.” Qui-gon said with certainty.

“The Hutts?”

“It’s risky,” Obi-wan added in the defense of his master. “But there is no alternative.”

“You can't take Her Royal Highness there! The Hutts are gangsters... If they discovered her...” Captain Panaka blindly fought for what he did not understand. Qui-gon simply informed him,

“It would be no different than if we landed on a system controlled by the Federation...except the Hutts aren't looking for her, which gives us an advantage.” Obi-wan grimly nodded in agreement and chose to ignore the deep breath of frustration withdrawn by the captain. He was human, like all of them- but he did not have the perception of the Jedi…he could not be blamed.

Obi-wan grunted a small while later as he assisted the blue droid that had been responsible for their escape. It whistled and beeped at him with uncertainty and continued to roll down the hallway, as though oblivious to the dirt and damage done to it while saving their lives. The young Jedi emitted a small laugh and followed it as the two of them joined with Captain Panaka and Qui-gon and continued down the passageway towards the Queen’s chambers.

“Obi-wan,” Qui-gon spoke softly to avoid the ears of Captain Panaka, who walked just ahead of them beside the little blue droid. “I sensed a great uncertainty in you while outside of Naboo.”

Obi-wan bowed his head- of course, he could not evade the mindful presence of his master. “Yes…I felt odd, master…hopeless-“

“Without hope there is fear, Obi-wan.”

“But I was not afraid. The feeling has passed; I will do better to control my senses in the future. It has not happened before…only then.”

“Do not be too keen to sum your own emotions, sometimes we cannot read them, even if they are our own. Trust yourself, but not to the extent you cannot open your mind.”

“I know, master.” Obi-wan nodded and then allowed their conversation to drop as they reached the Queen’s chambers. Captain Panaka curtly requested entrance, and the door was unlocked a moment later by none other than the young woman with unchangeable bravery in her voice that had made Obi-wan feel so strange. What was it about her- it felt as though he was being read, as though she was turning him out for all to see…such a connection was normal between a Jedi and another being not trained in the force. I might have to question her, he told himself grimly, wanting nothing of the sort.

“The Queen’s is waiting,” the young lady spoke in her soft tone and gestured for them to follow her. A small smile played at her lips as the blue droid rolled softly at her heels, beeping and whistling in its own language. Moments later-

“An extremely well put together little droid. Without a doubt, it saved the ship, as well as our lives.” Captain Panaka informed the Queen, who was seated in a large chair as though it were her throne. Her handmaidens were lined beside her, their faces all hidden by their cloaks and their statures matching. The droid’s number was R2D2, Captain Panaka revealed. Artoo Detoo…Obi-wan mused with a humored smile, his eyes settled on the droid’s rotating head.

“Thank you, Artoo Detoo. You have proven to be very loyal...Padme!” The Queen softly demanded the attention of one of her maidens. Obi-wan’s senses stilled as the mysterious and strong young lady that had continuously caught his attention stepped forward, her head no longer bowed but gracefully risen to survey her lady. She bowed curtly, maintaining her feminine posture, and then waited for the Queen to speak with patience. Her name was Padme…Obi-wan started, feeling his mind being broken into as though by a spare key…Qui-gon was watching him thoughtfully. Obi-wan returned the gaze of his master, their stare strong and locked by unspoken words.

What is troubling you, Obi-wan?

There is something about her, master. I sense something in her…

I sense it as well. But do not focus on it- it is not important for the time being.

Obi-wan was not focusing on it…but more so, his curiosity was. What was it about her? Their duty as Jedi included the unraveling of mysterious that may pertain to the situation at hand, did it not? That was why as they departed from the Queen’s chambers, Obi-wan waited till Qui-gon turned the hall corner with Captain Panaka and disappeared from view before he then turned to follow Padme and Artoo Detoo to the main seating area of the ship. He maintained enough distance to remain unnoticed and yet still see a fleeting glance of her orange cloaks before she disappeared around the corner ahead, in which direction he followed. She walked with dignity, Obi-wan realized…it portrayed her strength. Hearing her stop and settle herself in front of the small droid, Obi-wan paused and moved on with caution, choosing to stop just outside the doorway.

“Whatsa yousa doin’?” A boisterous voice asked, and Obi-wan rolled his eyes before turning them to greet JarJar, who was paused at his side.

“Seeing that the girl does a good job with our droid friend,” Obi-wan smiled, unable to withstand the humor of the situation. Of course, the one time he went against his master’s bidding and pursued a thought he would be pointed out. JarJar turned his floppy head to survey Padme and Artoo Detoo.

“Mesa no recall having meet her,” He mused and before Obi-wan could stop him, he completely entered the doorway and greeted the girl. Obi-wan remained pressed against the wall, still keen on not being discovered, but remained to listen to the Gungan exchange words with her.

“Hidoe!” JarJar cheerily said. Obi-wan heard the startled whistle of the droid before JarJar continued by saying, “Sorry, nomeanen to scare yousa.”

“That’s alright.” Her cool voice replied.

“Mesa JarJar Binksss…” JarJar introduced himself, and Obi-wan could hear his clumsy steps approach Padme and Artoo.

“I’m Padme,” She replied, and Obi-wan crossed his arms over his chest and casually leaned back. He still hadn’t been properly introduced to her, he realized. Not that it mattered- he was merely summarizing her, nothing more, and their acquaintance was not needed. “You’re a Gungan, aren’t you? How did you end up here?” The most words Obi-wan had heard her speak yet…but not enough to know her by. As JarJar began to give a lengthy explanation, Obi-wan turned to leave with his arms still folded over his chest. His steps were light, but his mind was heavy with thought. Best to clear his head before reentering the room with Qui-gon…his master and friend always knew when something was about.

Later that evening, Obi-wan was excused from the bridge for a brief period of rest before their arrival on Tatooine. He immediately found empty chambers, but they were not to his liking: large but sparse with formal furnishings, Obi-wan would not feel comfortable in such a room. He was too adapted to discomfort to take plush beds now, he realized with a grim smile and turned towards the droid hold. It was now empty, as Artoo had been the only droid to survive the repair of their ship, and the little blue droid was finding a sociable life much more pleasurable. Glancing around swiftly, Obi-wan picked out a spacey area in which he seated himself. He folded his legs and bowed his head, allowing his senses to still and his mind to become victim to rest within the force. His thoughts wandered into blurry visions, but his conscience ignored them and he focused only on the blackness of the backs of his eyelids until unconsciousness completely took hold.

Moments later, Obi-wan sat up straight with a jerk, his mind sharp and immediately wary. Someone was now in the hold with him, and though their intentions had not been corrupt they had purposely remained quiet upon realizing his presence. The Jedi jumped to his feet quickly and silently, glancing around for his guest.

“I did not mean to disturb you.” A soft but familiar voice greeted him. Obi-wan smiled- he should have known this would happen- he should have sensed her suspicion. He turned to meet Padme in person for the first time…she seemed younger up close: her features were porcelain and childlike, but her eyes held wisdom and again, the meek bravery that had stunned him. She was standing with her hands loose at her side, still in her orange garments of servant hood, but only now she had drawn down the hood that had sheltered her features. Rivets of dark, glossy braids and curls cascaded from her head and floundered upon her shoulders and around her waist- it framed her narrow, heart like face perfectly.

“We had thought everyone within the Queen’s chambers to be resting.” Obi-wan commented, his brows raised in question. Padme nodded, obviously ready to give an explanation but still waiting for something that Obi-wan could not entirely predict.

“I was restless. Why were you watching me earlier?” She meekly and softly asked, her voice modest and aware that he was her superior but still requesting honesty. Obi-wan watched her for a moment and allowed his senses to become in tune with hers…once again, her feelings were veiled and mysterious. “In the hanger in Theed, then once again in the Queen’s chambers…and I know you were listening to me while I was with Artoo.”

“I was, but how do you know?” Obi-wan curiously asked, forsaking his superior-Jedi standing and allowing pure amusement and coyness to slip into his nature. He could not understand the mysterious shrouding around Padme unless he was honest with himself, and he could not do that while in the stature of an intimidating Jedi. If Qui-gon would approve of this theory, Obi-wan was unsure…Qui-gon had adapted to ways that the Jedi Council had never approved, but he still remained dedicated to the code.

Obi-wan shook off his resounding thoughts as he realized that Padme was returned his amused smile with a coy and clever grin of her own- the expression was disarming, and Obi-wan started as she said, “Your Gungan friend seemed quite confused at why you weren’t being sociable.”

After a summarizing moment of silence, Obi-wan could not help but chuckle. Of course, JarJar had commented about Obi-wan standing outside by himself…the Jedi should have foreseen that coming, as it would have been so typical of JarJar to do so. Padme smiled but remained silent as Obi-wan laughed, watching him with impatience as she was still awaiting his answer.

“You aren’t answering my question.” Her tone was now demanding. Obi-wan, still smirking somewhat, examined her with interest- not many of the Queen’s servants would demand submission from a Jedi…

“I’m choosing not to.” He replied. “If you’ll excuse me, milady.” He bowed awkwardly, as she was still a good deal shorter than him, and moved to leave her in the droid hold by herself. As fascinating as she was, he had the choice whether or not to answer her- and the decision he had made he would hold to. How would he explain his reasoning? There was no excuse for him having watched her, other than sheer curiousity and the fact that he was unable to resist fighting at the barricades surrounding her mind.

“My questions come from the queen, I have taken up my concern with her.” Padme said lightly as Obi-wan was just about to leave the hold. He froze in the doorway, disbelieving. Had the girl really expressed concern about him watching her? He felt out her feelings, praying for a gateway to her reasoning…she was lying…he turned to face her. Her jaw was set stubbornly and her eyes were now not glinting as they had been- perhaps because they would not all the way meet his.

“I doubt that. The queen trusts our judgment, and I had no ill intentions by watching you for a split second, Padme. I’m sure she would tell you the same thing.”

“How can you be so sure? Don’t you think that I would know her better than you?”

“I may not think so, but you certainly do as you seem to be able to make such assumptions about her decisions.”

“Don’t call me Padme.”

“Excuse me?” Obi-wan faulted in their argument, thrown off by her sudden change in course. Padme stubbornly stared at him as she fumbled to bring her cloak back up over her hair. He had angered her.

“You don’t even know me, Master Jedi. Don’t address me so casually.”

“Well you obviously don’t know me either, or you’d know that I am no master. But either way, I am still a Jedi and you are still a handmaiden. I think that comparison speaks in itself.” Obi-wan’s hands were now on his hips as he spoke, and he had pulled his brown cloak back around his shoulders. Padme looked ready to continue their argument, but the wisdom in her eyes overtook the remainder of her and she let it rest with discontent.

“I heard Qui-gon Jinn refer to you as Obi-wan Kenobi.”

“That’s because it is my name.” Obi-wan replied obviously, impatient and frustrated that he was not doing a good enough job hiding it. Padme narrowed her eyes at him for a split second and then bowed her head, returning to her stature of servitude. It made Obi-wan uncomfortable to be treated in such a way, but he allowed her to do so as he preferred it to the stubborn argument they had shared.

“Get some rest.” He said simply and turned to head towards the bridge, realizing that such a notion would be impossible for him now.

“Obi-wan.” Qui-gon called down the hall, and the younger Jedi followed his master’s voice. Through the front window of the ship a yellow planet, looking dry and smoky, rotated. “Tatooine.” Qui-gon offered, and Obi-wan nodded in agreement. Here is where they would hopefully find repairs. He shifted his weight, chosing to forget the argument that had just taken place, and now looked over the pilot’s shoulder as he navigated.

“Land near the outskirts. We don't want to attract any attention.” Qui-gon insisted. Moments later, the ship gracefully landed in a swirl of dust in the desert land that Obi-wan had never before laid eyes on. Just beyond the horizon, a city stood- though it looked no more than a palm-sized play toy. Obi-wan suddenly felt a great pressure in his mind, and he winced as though stung. His eyes slipped closed for a split second before he regained his composure, and then he quickly began to seek what he had felt…the force within him stirred and his mind felt like a hollow cavity being evaded by a stirring pool of masked information. He looked to Qui-gon, whose face was similarly set in deep thought and feeling, and then followed his master, JarJar, and the pilot from the ship. What had he felt? There’s was no placing it…

Qui-gon and JarJar would be going into the city to hopefully purchase a hyperdrive generator, but Obi-wan knew that it was his duty to remain behind and protect the Queen from outlanders, and also to take transmissions and decode information. However, he escorted Qui-gon outside into the heat of Tatooine to check upon the path of travel. After summarizing their plan of action, the two Jedi returned into the main section of the ship, where Qui-gon pulled him closer and said quietly so as not to be heard by Panaka,

“Don't let them send any transmissions. Be wary...I sense a disturbance in the Force.” Relief flooded Obi-wan, and he nodded warily.

“I felt it also, master.”

With their final words, Qui-gon turned to meet with Artoo and JarJar, and the trio headed for the exit ramp to enter the dusty land that would hopefully bring them to the equipment they needed. After a long moment of thought, Obi-wan walked heavily down the ramp and paused at the bottom to watch the shapes of Qui-gon, JarJar, and Artoo shrink into the sandy layout surrounding them. He folded his arms over his chest and focused his thoughts on Qui-gon’s mentality…he was at peace and content, much unlike his apprentice. Obi-wan knew he still had much to learn- he realized it everyday as he followed Qui-gon around and aided him with what skills they shared.

“Excuse me.” A small figure brushed past Obi-wan, and he looked to Padme with both surprise and annoyance. She was out of her handmaiden robe and instead had dressed in traveling garments of soft gray and complimentary blue; her hair was half wound around the crescent of her head in thick braids and the remainder spilt down her back. What does she want now? Obi-wan sighed, sensing pride and distrust in Padme’s face as she surveyed him.

“Going somewhere?” He asked simply, his brows raised. If she had been any less of a lady, she probably would have snarled at me, Obi-wan mused.

“Captain Panaka will be down in a moment to escort me to accompany Qui-gon into the city.”

“Oh?” Obi-wan coyly asked, his smile now pasted and faulty. What right did she have to think she could freely roam a city governed by outlaws and gangsters? Was so anxious for trouble? As if Qui-gon and Obi-wan didn’t have enough to worry about in protecting the Queen, they now would have to supervise the well being of her servant as well! “And Qui-gon agrees with this idea?” He questioned, knowing that his master had not been informed of the girl’s foolish plan…he would not agree.

“No, but the queen wishes to learn of this place. Qui-gon will not disagree when he hears it is a request from her Majesty.” Padme replied, her chin high in defiance.

“How convenient for you.” The Jedi murmured. She would be wrong, of course- no one knew Qui-gon more than his apprentice. The strength Obi-wan had been admiring in her was now beginning to prove troublesome, as it was the source of her stubborn attitude. What? What do you want of me? He longed to demand as she stared at him. He only wished to divulge the mystery surrounding her, not request her wrath!

“Ready?” Captain Panaka asked Padme as he descended from the stairs behind Obi-wan. Padme nodded, and Obi-wan was surprised to see the attractive girl’s face shift to one of submission and servitude in the presence of their new company. Ah, so she wasn’t as bold as he had thought- he must have truly upset her to fall victim to the full force of her stubbornness.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” The captain informed Obi-wan curtly and took Padme’s arm in his hand, leading her away from the ship with no further comment. Obi-wan felt a swell of something he knew he should be ashamed of- anger. He immediately began to calm himself, knowing the danger of such emotions in leading to the dark side. It was only a moment’s flare, he told himself. Panaka did not trust him as he trusted Qui-gon…he looked down on Obi-wan because he knew he was still a padawan in the learning process, and therefore could not be as extensive in wisdom and skills as a master. Did Panaka not think that Obi-wan deserved to know of Padme’s plan? Did he think that Obi-wan opinion had nothing to due in the matter of right and wrong choices regarding their mission?

“Wait!” Obi-wan could hear Captain Panaka call to Qui-gon, but his attention was now elsewhere. It was on the great splurge of feelings that had erupted within him…emotions…temptations…if he could tell Qui-gon of these misleadings….no. He couldn’t. Qui-gon had never fallen prey to human temptations such as anger and impatience, therefore he could not understand Obi-wan’s issues with the matter. Powers of the force, Obi-wan silently hissed. What’s wrong with me?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Forsaken

Chapter 2

Doubts of the Padawan

The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.-M. Scott Peck

\- - - - -

Days past far too quickly for Obi-wan’s liking. All was well aboard the ship, and although he saw little of the Queen unless by his own ambition, she was safe and sound. Qui-gon remained in constant contact, and to Obi-wan’s surprise, he carried news of a boy…but that was little concern for now, or so Obi-wan marked it. What mattered was the fact that Qui-gon was obviously struggling gaining possession of the hyperdrive generator that they needed.

Obi-wan only thought of Padme once, he happily realized as she crossed his mind for the first time. He had entirely pressed her face from her memory and insisted that whatever it was about her that had viciously scarred his mind had faded in her absence and would remain in such a state even at her return…she was not worth the trouble, and he would not risk his dedication to the code for her pride.

The day after their arrival on Tatooine, a very nervous handmaiden informed Obi-wan that they had received a transmission from Governor Bibble- the first of several that would plead for the Queen’s response. The moment that the badly formed hologram of Sio Bibble formed, Obi-wan could sense that it was a trick…a bait and a prod to guilt the Queen into returning to or contacting Naboo, which would lead the Federation onto their doorstep. That evening, he informed Qui-gon of his idea over the communicator, and as he suspected his master agreed.

“It sounds like bait to establish a connection trace.” Qui-gon said, his voice somewhat fuzzy over the communicator. Obi-wan nodded, though his master would not be able to see such a gesture. His mind was still reeling at the image of the panicked governor, and doubt was pouring into his assumptions with restless disproval. What if he was wrong? What if they were both wrong, and the people were suffering and falling because of the Trade Federation’s torturous reach? Qui-gon had little to offer on the matter, other than saying what Obi-wan already knew: they were running out of time.

Hours drained away, but Obi-wan remained in the communication room lit dimly by red lights and was shrouded by his thoughts. He had hoped that Qui-gon would contact him before morning, but as time pressed on, he realized that his master was doubtlessly tending to the boy he had spoken so highly of. Just as the younger Jedi was standing and turning from his chair, the small hand-held communicator churned with a beep on the dash of the starchart. Anxious, Obi-wan picked up the comlink and pressed the response button as he held the small device to his lips and said,

“Yes, Qui-gon, I’m here.”

Silence was his only reply for a brief moment, but any emotions that would have pried at him were waylaid by his common sense as a Jedi...Qui-gon and his company were fine. But what did that mean by this strange interception on the communicator?

“Qui-gon?” He asked again, his brow somewhat creased as he released the response button. Another slow moment passed before a voice not that of his master came through softly.

“This is Padme…Qui-gon is resting. Please don’t leave.”

Obi-wan’s senses reeled and had it not been for the plea in her voice, he would have set down the communicator and walked from the room as he had planned. Obviously, she knew that would be his reaction, or she would not have asked him to remain in communication.

“Yes, this is Obi-wan Kenobi. What is it?” He asked needlessly, surprised that his voice sounded so patient.

“I…I need you to put me into contact with the Queen.”

“Oh?” Obi-wan was now suspicious, as he knew that she could only have one thing in mind…Qui-gon’s plan was questionable, and the handmaiden was doubtlessly wanting to inform the queen of his master’s “foolhardy” thoughts and actions. No….no. He shook his head, ashamed at his bitterness and hastiness to assume the worst…clear your mind, he told himself with a deep breath and felt out the desire to see what the situation truly was. “She’s resting, Padme, what can I do for you?”

Again, silence, and then- “I must speak with her myself, Obi-wan.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I cannot wake her. If you aren’t willing to relay information to me, I will have her contact Qui-gon in the morning to hear you out.” Obi-wan hoped he wasn’t being to abrupt, but he was being honest…unless this was an absolute emergency, he could not bring himself to wake the Queen after having had so many restless hours himself. She needed relief and relaxation, neither of which a midnight summoning would bring. Not to mention, Captain Panaka would probably not hear of it, even if it was Padme.

“Then I’ll wait till I can personally talk to the Queen.”

“Thank you for understanding.” Obi-wan curtly replied, moving to set down the communicator and end their discussion.

“No- wait.” Padme’s voice, again surprisingly pleading, vibrated in Obi-wan’s palm. “Have there been any more transmissions from the Governor?” It didn’t really concern her…these matters were solely politics, unless she was concerned about the loss of the people.

“Not since the first one we received.”

In the silence that filled their communication link, Obi-wan sensed something in her, though it was faint and at a distance…he felt emotions that he himself had never experienced to a great extent…fear, sorrow, attachment. So she did fear for those on Naboo- family and friends, doubtlessly, and perhaps even a husband. No…she was too young…or was she? It didn’t matter.

“Padme, the Queen needs your strength. She fears for the fate of the Naboo, and how it will play into the trials the Republic are facing.” Why am I comforting her? Obi-wan asked and then immediately scolded himself. Just because he could not have emotions, did not mean he could not have compassion She was still a human, and a young lady, at that…Qui-gon would insist upon the proper treatment of her and would undoubtedly be ashamed to know that Obi-wan was reacting in such a way to her stubborn defiance and mysterious elements.

“Thank you.” Her words were hollow, but not insincere. Instead, they were warm and unclouded by depth…she meant more than she had spoken, Obi-wan realized. What was she hiding in relation to the Queen? Had Amidala not told them something that Padme knew? Before Obi-wan could truly begin to ponder such a possibility, Padme continued to speak in her warm and sincere tones that abolished the contempt Obi-wan had been feeling towards her…why had she hidden herself beneath the mask of stubbornness? “I did not mean to offend you in these past days.”

“It is not your place to apologize, I was wrong to treat you as I did.” Obi-wan did not ponder his words before he spoke them, and he was surprised by how much he found himself meaning them. “But there isn’t an explanation for why I was watching you, so I can’t give one.”

More silence…why was she waiting so long before speaking? The suspension was enough to drive Obi-wan mad, even in his Jedi patience!

“I don’t understand, but I’m not sure I want to.” She laughed into the communicator, and Obi-wan smiled at the comlink in his hand…it was a beautiful laugh. Laughter was something that Jedi could enjoy, but not to its full extent…it was always controlled and pressured. “Thank you for understanding. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“You didn’t.” Obi-wan honestly said, amazed at his words. Again, she had entirely marveled him- how had she altered from amazingly strong and bold woman, to stubborn and pressuring female, to kind and gently young lady while still maintaining her same overall stature? It didn’t seem human.

“I will-“ Padme began but was quickly cut off by a voice behind her in the communicator. Concern gripped Obi-wan, but no fear…the voice was familiar, even though muffled. Qui-gon was obviously awake and wondering why the young girl had taken his comlink and used it…Obi-wan laughed but did not press down the response button so that his amusement could not be heard by Qui-gon, only sensed. While waiting for a further response from either Padme or Qui-gon, Obi-wan left the control room and found his way down the exit ramp of the spacecraft, where he hovered for a few moments before hearing anything.

“What did you discuss with our curious little friend?” Qui-gon asked a moment later, amusement in his tone. Relieved, Obi-wan chuckled.

“Nothing relevant, I’ll assure you master. What news?” It took Qui-gon several moments with no interruptions by Obi-wan to entirely explain his newly devised plan to obtain the hyperdrive generator. The young boy he had mentioned earlier in their communication seemed willing to race in order for them to achieve the winnings that would allow them to purchase the parts for their journey- it seemed risky, but everything was nowadays, Obi-wan realized grimly. Even so, he stated his concern.

“What if this plan fails, Master? We could be stuck here for a very long time….”

The boy had won the race….a pod-race…Obi-wan had only once seen one, and he had found it enjoyable only because he was not in it. He knew it took great skill, and from what Qui-gon had told him, the boy was the only human that could do it. Such was a sign of Jedi reflexes, not to mention to midi-chlorian count that had been taken the night before…off the charts! What did it mean? Obi-wan briefly recalled the day a blood sample had been taken from him when he was quite young, and then the day he began to train as a youngling…he had been so frightened, and yet so anxious at the same time. Yoda had sensed it then and knew that Obi-wan would be a stubborn padawan- perhaps that is why the council chose Qui-gon Jinn, possibly one of the most unorthodox Jedi, to train him.

“What do you think of Qui-gon’s plan now, Captain Panaka?” Obi-wan asked with a chuckle as the two men descended down the exit ramp of the ship with a handful of the pilots to assist them. Panaka glanced at him warily from under his hat, obviously aware that he had been proven wrong but not willing to verbally say so. Obi-wan granted him his humility and continued to walk in the desert heat even when Panaka and the other pilots stopped- the shapes of Qui-gon, JarJar, Artoo, and Padme were approaching with a pair of harnessed eopies to tote the newly purchased parts.

“Hello, JarJar,” Obi-wan greeted as his Gungan friend tipsied towards him as though he had been gone for a very long time.

“Obi!” JarJar greeted in return. Obi-wan smiled as Artoo rolled across his feet in approach of the ship; the droid was obviously ready for the cold air of the ship’s cooling system.

“All’s well with the Queen?” Qui-gon asked upon approaching his padawan. Obi-wan solemnly nodded and moved closer to the cart being pulled by the eopies, inspecting the generator with interest and knowledge for a moment before he gestured for JarJar to lead the cart towards the ship.

“Yes. No transmissions, as you requested…but she’s anxious, and very nervous to reach the Senate.” Obi-wan said as he adjusted the brown cloak over his shoulders to loosen…a bit of sweat was crawling on the back of his neck due to the warm material in the hot desert sun.

She was watching him, he realized with a start as he saw Padme just behind Qui-gon’s shoulder. Their eyes locked, both unwilling to back down from the strange competition and both remaining silent. What now? He sighed inwardly, though he was far more amused at the moment than he would have been in days past. Qui-gon moved to discuss their evasive action with Captain Panaka, and Obi-wan stepped up to where he had been standing so as to be only two steps away from the lovely handmaiden.

“Yes?” He asked, his lips imparting in a smile. Padme looked up at him through squinted eyes, as the sun was beating down on them at a sharp angle.

“I didn’t say anything.” She stated with confusion and turned to approach the ship. Obi-wan moved to stop her, as he was not finished with the conversation. He should have been, as he knew that it was not his place to go out of his way to speak with her…especially of matters irrelevant to his mission…but he resisted the urge to remain solemn and smiled at her as she turned backed towards him with flustered confusion on her features.

“No, but I saw you were watching me.” What, was he teasing now? Don’t let yourself get carried away, he told himself. Flustered, Obi-wan turned his eyes from Padme and pretended to be interested in Qui-gon and Panaka’s discussion to gather his thoughts. What was wrong with him- this wasn’t like him…there was nothing wrong with humor, but he was going out of his way to share it with her. Why?

“Very funny.” Padme said, though her face did not emphasize her words. She was glowering again, Obi-wan realized and pursed his lips…he truly did get on her bad side in the worst of ways. Before he could apologize or make some gesture to evade her stubborn wrath yet again, Padme’s face broke into a soft smile and relieved Obi-wan’s assumptions entirely…it was a beautiful smile.

“The Queen questioned about your safety while you were gone.” Obi-wan told her, guessing that it would please her to know she was missed.

“Thank you.” Padme replied. Her features didn’t reveal any sort of surprise, Obi-wan mused. Again, the mysterious veil around her true emotions…she was impossible to read, like an ancient memoir with undefined words.

“Obi-wan,” Qui-gon beckoned as Padme left Obi-wan with a parting glance. Obi-wan turned his attention entirely to his master, his hands now folded in front of him like an anxious schoolboy awaiting order. “Start getting this hyperdrive generator installed. I'm going back...some unfinished business. I won't be long.”

He’s going back for the boy, Obi-wan realized….so Qui-gon did want to pursue the strange aura the boy possessed in the Jedi skills. Curiosity and sheer wisdom had undoubtedly chiseled him to that decision.

“Why do I sense we've picked up another pathetic life form...?” Obi-wan jokingly asked with a half-smile. Qui-gon did not return the grin, but rather thoughtfully looked to the distant city and said,

“It's the boy who's responsible for getting those parts.” Of course, Obi-wan already knew, and he simply smiled and nodded. With no more words to his friend, he turned to the ship and began mentally calculating what needed to be done with the hyperdrive in order for their departure…

Anakin turned out to be a humorous little boy with large eyes and sandy blond hair that fell across his forehead limply, until picked up with his youthful step. Obi-wan took an immediate liking to him, but perhaps not so swift in trusting that he was prepared to be a Jedi, as Qui-gon was assuming.

Another interesting thing happened- though interesting was not an appropriate word for the situation…upon Qui-gon’s second return to the Naboo ship, he and the boy were pursued and attacked by what Qui-gon seemed to suspect as a Sith. It was trained well in the force and perhaps had even outdone Qui-gon’s sabre fighting…the thought disturbed Obi-wan, but he made no notion to show his concern. However, in the short yet swift battle between the dark stranger and Qui-gon, Qui-gon’s laser grip had been damaged…not sufficiently enough for it to be incapable for future battle, but enough to concern Qui-gon. While his master dealt with making Anakin feel comfortable and discussing their route to the capital, Obi-wan volunteered to repair the lightsabre, as he wished to distract his mind for the moment.

That was why the tan-clad jedi now knelt alone in the communication room, fiddling with Qui-gon’s lightsabre, specifically the power conduit and lens assembly…the problem seemed to be in the emission of the laser beam directly powered by the Aegean crystal. Obi-wan’s swift and dexterous hands moved lightly over the belt ring until it was loosened enough for him to rotate the emitter matrix. There, that’s it…tighter…no…clasp it. Blast, that’s not right. Obi-wan chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he worked, his padawan braid sliding against his ear annoyingly.

“What are you doing?” Padme asked from the doorway, and Obi-wan lifted his eyes briefly to greet her. She had changed from her peasant traveling garbs back into a handmaiden cloak of soft orange that complimented her flesh-toned cheeks, but she did not bear the hood of her cloak. Instead, loose curls were draped around her like some outer garment, and they swayed against her frame as she walked towards him. Obi-wan blinked once then returned his mind to the tool in his hand that needed repair.

“Fixing Qui-gon’s blasted lightsabre.” He said with a sigh as he shifted his index finger to emit the beam from the weapon- it flickered a second before coming strong, and then faded thereafter. He had made it worse…Qui-gon would need it within a few hours, as they’d be landing in the capital before a full day’s time and a Jedi was only half without his weapon. Sometimes, as silly as it was- Obi-wan felt that his own weapon nearly had a voice of its own that spoke to him while he was wielding it, willing him to use it in a certain manner. This was, of course, the force moving through him…he wasn’t daft enough to overlook the subtle power of it.

“I see.” Padme simply said and sat beside him, watching the flickering weapon with interest in silence. She was a bit of a distraction beside him, but he didn’t mind her company…in fact, it warmed him to the point of feeling awkward. What was it about her presence that rattled him so? Perhaps because he could never fully understand her.

“How is the Queen?” Obi-wan asked dully, knowing full well that Amidala was resting in her chambers with the rest of her maidens.

“She’s well.”

“Good. And you?”

“I’m fine.” Padme said, obviously amused that Obi-wan would ask such a thing as he had just seen her a few hours prior to their meeting. Obi-wan nodded, his eyes remaining on his hands as they moved with dexterity and precision over Qui-gon’s lightsabre. They remained in a comfortable silence for nearly an hour, until Obi-wan had entirely repaired the weapon to its full use, with perhaps even better emission. He shot out the beam and turned it over in his hand, inspecting its root thoroughly before further wielding it. Wanting to test it to make sure it was fully functional, Obi-wan stood up and walked across the room, rotating it in his hand and spinning it swiftly to create a wheel of green in the air as he walked. With a final swift turn, he shrunk the beam of the blade to nonexistence and smiled, panting a little with his quick exertion of effort.

“Did it take long to master your weapon?” Padme asked. Obi-wan smiled and turned back towards her, setting down Qui-gon’s lightsabre and drawing his own as he approached her.

“I’m still learning.” He honestly said, knowing that his skills in comparison to those of Yoda were minimum. The only time he had seen Master Yoda fight, he could hardly focus on the small, swift figure, and had it not been for the glow of the lightsabre he would have entirely lost Yoda in his speed.

“You must practice very often.” Padme commented and Obi-wan winced unnoticeably. She was obviously attempting to make conversation…why did she want so badly to get to know him? And why in the powers of the force did he not mind it?

“Come here,” he insisted, and Padme stood. He outstretched his hand and after a moment of confusion, Padme placed hers upon it and allowed him to pull her closer. Obi-wan’s pulse quickened as their shoulders brushed when they stood side-by-side, but he quickly regained his composure and continued. He placed his sabre in her hands, knowing full well Qui-gon would have a fit if he knew of his padawan’s actions…but just once wouldn’t hurt.

“I don’t want to-“ Padme began to weakly resist, but gave in. “What do I do now?” She asked, holding the handle of the weapon in both hands with a small tremble. Obi-wan grinned and dared to move even closer to help her wield the weapon.

“Use your palm to rotate this…there…press that button…”

Padme’s hands shakily moved over the control grip, and the beam of the sabre shot out swiftly. She gasped, obviously overwhelmed, and stared at it for a long second.

“I’m going back to the Queen,” she shakily insisted, as though afraid of what she held.

“Of course,” Obi-wan said, disturbed that he felt disappointed at her duty. He stretched out his hands over hers, moving to take the sabre and shut it down…just as his hands paused over hers, the door to the communication room hissed open, and JarJar Binks stood in daft greeting.

“Whatsa yousa doin’?” He asked, and the sound of his voice was so loud that Padme jumped the slightest bit, causing the beam of the sabre to rock and slightly brush Obi-wan’s shoulder. Obi-wan flinched and let out a small grunt of sudden pain, grasping his shoulder with his free hand and with the other turning of the lightsabre before further damage could be caused. Padme gasped, horrified, and looked to JarJar in alarm.

“JarJar, get Qui-gon!”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Obi-wan insisted, knowing that the wrath of his master would hurt far worse than a small lightsabre incision. He had fooled with his sabre as a youth and failed to be careful enough times to know how to treat a small wound, and had in fact become quite good at hiding his mishaps from his master when he had been a teen padawan. “Go on JarJar, we’ll be done in a minute.”

JarJar had let out a large whoop in fear at Obi-wan’s injuries and had been hovering curiously close to him with his large nose flared in obvious panic. Now, his eyes rounded in curiousity but agreement and he turned to leave, muttering something about “easiwwy startleled Jedi”. Obi-wan made sure he had gone and then returned his eyes to the small slit in his tan tunic, seeing only a small amount of blood as the burn had been swift and clean. He cursed under his breath and stood to cross the room and retrieve a bandage, but Padme quickly stopped him with a swift shove to his good shoulder.

“I’ll get it, sit down. I can’t believe you made me do that!”

“I didn’t make you do that specifically, milady!” Obi-wan insisted with a breathy laugh of exasperation. As Padme stood, the control grip of the lightsabre rolled to the floor and remained there until Obi-wan reached down and retrieved it, grimacing all the way as he did so.

“No, but you made me hold it. I didn’t ask to.”

“Fine, fine. I obviously can’t win with you.” Obi-wan shook his head, moving over to sit on a down on the hover chair. Padme sat beside him, holding a heal-ton in one hand and a small, tan seal in the other. Obi-wan reached to take them from her, but she withdrew her hand and shook her head with narrowed eyes.

“You can at least let me do this.” She insisted, shoving his outstretched hand back down but pausing her palm on it for a moment longer than required. The small touch made Obi-wan loose concentration and balance for a moment, and his pulse quickened with an odd sensation at the feel of her hand. It was soft and brittle, unlike his large and callused hand against hers…he had never felt a hand with this significance before…he had never thought about the pure beauty of the human touch. Not until hers. His head began to pound and his face felt warm with nervousness and panic…why was he feeling this? He pulled his hand back swiftly and refocused his thought- what illogical sensation had just passed through him? Whatever it was, it had been an emotion and therefore did not coincide with the Jedi Code.

“You’ve been cut before.” Padme mused as she rolled up his sleeve to reach his fresh wound. Obi-wan said nothing- his scars spoke for him, as few and insignificant as they were. Padme’s hands traveled up his arm and began to work on the small cut, obviously experienced in healing. Obi-wan closed his eyes and focused all his might at not watching her face as she hovered so close, but eventually, he gave in and allowed his eyes to settle on hers. Padme’s gaze flickered for a second and she shifted her gaze upward into his.

“You’re watching me again.”

“I’m sorry.” Obi-wan said, and turned his face away. Padme said nothing but merely pulled down his sleeve…she was finished in very short time, Obi-wan realized. Or perhaps everything about that moment had sped by because of the sensation within him…why wasn’t she being the stubborn and annoying person that he had felt no attraction for? Attraction. Was that what he was feeling? Curses- as if being impatient and disobedient wasn’t enough, he now had an attachment. He stood swiftly, disregarding her questioning gaze and moving for the door, wanting to escape her gaze and evade what he was feeling.

“Don’t be.” Her voice called after him and his chest squeezed tightly together in panic. This could not be, and it would cease to exist after this moment…she was nothing but a handmaiden, young and stubborn. There could be no peace while there was emotion, and Obi-wan would not be responsible for a lack of peace…he would not allow himself to fall into that trap. Temptations led to the dark side…she was the path that would lead him there, if he were to truly have affections for her. Affections? First attachment, now affection…why were these words coming to him? They had never applied to his being before her. Should he tell Qui-gon? Perhaps his master could aid in his difficulty- no. Qui-gon must feel that Obi-wan could manage himself as a grown Jedi knight, and if Obi-wan were to approach him with the prospect of emotion, Qui-gon would never believe Obi-wan could handle himself in the near future. Obi-wan breathed in deep, standing alone in the sleeping hallway of the ship and clouded in the darkness. Patience…control…understanding…

“First you follow me, now you avoid me? What’s your game?” Padme demanded, emerging behind Obi-wan. The Jedi knight quickly drew in his breath…even her presence was now unsettling. He could not be around her anymore; as little time as he had had to know her, he now had these emotions…if he came to know her well, the result would be disastrous. He would not surrender his honesty and loyalty for her.

“There is no game. You’re right, you should go see to the Queen.”

“The Queen is fine, trust me.” Padme snorted, and Obi-wan arched his brows at her tone. He turned to face her and could not hide his amusement- there, the stubborn side had returned. She stood with her hands planted on her hips and her jaw locked in defiance. “I need your honesty, Obi-wan.”

“And I need yours!” Obi-wan cried in a hushed tone, shaking his head and stepping closer to her threateningly. “What is it about you? I can sense it…you’ve hidden something. You have so many faces, and yet the true one I cannot even find. The question is, what’ s your game?” He asked, horrified that the words came from his mouth. Padme gaped, her mouth opening and closing several times before she finally sighed and clamped her mouth shut.

“Obviously, master Jedi, you can’t perceive as well as you thought.” She said quietly and dangerously. She pressed past him and walked down the hall, turning into the main hull of the ship and leaving him to his thoughts. Obi-wan stared at where she had been standing moments before, as though he was still surveying the temperamental young girl before him. Don’t do it, don’t do it. His conscience told him…but he resisted and followed her. He paused outside the door and watched her…concern and stress now lined her face, as well as fatigue- she looked older, and more mature. She softly strode across the room, unaware of his presence, and paused in front of the transmission monitor. After a moment of wary decision, she cued the recording of Governor Bibble and watched with saddened eyes. She was hurting, Obi-wan realized with dismay. She had loved ones on Naboo that would be counted in the suffering…loved ones. Obi-wan considered the term and shook his head, backing away from the door as he sensed the young Skywalker’s presence around the corner. He began to walk down the hallway slowly, hearing Padme and Anakin begin to carry a discussion about caring and protection…care. Loved ones. Affection.

“…Many things will change when we reach the capital, Anni. My caring for you will always remain.” Again, the compassion in her voice warmed him, but he refocused his thoughts quickly and determined that he simply admired her ability to care as she did. So she had come to care for the boy over the course of days in their short journey…such a relationship would be good for Anakin, Obi-wan summarized.

“Jedi Kenobi, Coruscant is less than an hour within reach.” Captain Panaka called, and Obi-wan saw that him and Qui-gon were walking towards the bridge of the ship with relieved but weary expressions. Obi-wan nodded and tossed Qui-gon his lightsabre with a cheeky smile that concealed the turmoil he was feeling within

“Better than new, master.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Chapter 3

Submission

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved. – HELEN KELLER

"You seem anxious,” Qui-gon mused as they waited for the descending ramp to lower from the sleek Naboo spacecraft. They were now in Coruscant, and everyone that had been aboard the spacecraft was now lined properly behind Obi-wan and Qui-gon with anxiety lined tersely on their features. To evade his master’s probing eyes, Obi-wan glanced over his shoulders: JarJar and Anakin were directly behind them, followed closely by Captain Panaka, two guards, Queen Amidala, and her several handmaidens. He made a point not to let his gaze fix upon Padme and found with alarm that such a feat was becoming increasingly hard…she had been tormenting his thoughts, probing him with her beauty, and haunting him with the idea of affection. “Obi-wan.” Qui-gon’s voice simply demanded.

“I am not anxious, master. Perhaps…frustrated would be the appropriate word.”

“Frustration and anxiety lie hand in hand. What’s troubling you?”

“…Perhaps now is not the time.” Obi-wan simply said, meaning no disrespect but seeing a bit of withdrawal in his master’s expression. Qui-gon nodded, saying no more, and then began to descend down the ramp with his padawan in tow. Senator Palpatine, an older man with a pasted smile and sleek white hair, was waiting for them with his hands folded before him patiently. Beside him stood the Supreme Chancellor Valorum, so the Jedi bowed appropriately in greeting and then looked to Queen Amidala for her reaction. Plans were quickly called to attention as Amidala and Valorum discussed a special calling of Senate, but Obi-wan felt his mind drifting back to what had become a growing doubt in his mind. His eyes flickered towards Padme, catching her cast a caring smile at Anakin and finding his own smile rising in a warm glow. She was so gentle…so kind…more importantly, she was forbidden. All love was, all emotion was, all feeling…it was as though Obi-wan had to suffer a tourniquet in order to hold steadfast to his Jedi duty. Ignore it, he told himself as he watched her, Anakin, and JarJar depart with the Queen and Palpatine. Qui-gon and Obi-wan remained with Chancellor Valorum, as Qui-gon had briefly expressed his desire to inform the Chancellor of the happenings with the Sith attacker.

“I must speak with the Jedi Council immediately, Your Honor. The situation has become more complicated.”

“Obi-wan, we must speak before we enter the council.” Qui-gon told Obi-wan the following morning, much to Obi-wan concern. His master’s face was still and tense, but lack of any emotion and void of expression. The two of them had been walking down the hall in the Jedi Temple, heading for the council chambers silently and swiftly, both full of unspoken thoughts.

“What is it master?” Obi-wan asked, stopping with his arms folded in his brown cloak. Qui-gon stopped in mid-step as well, examining his padawan up and down as though summarizing what he saw before him. Obi-wan was not uncomfortable, as many of the Jedi masters had often done so to him as he progressed from youngling to padawan.

“I have sensed much confusion in you these past weeks. Something is present in your being that was absent before. I will not demand an explanation, I trust you understand the dangers of doubt and confusion…but you are now going before the Jedi council, and they will see through you far more than I have. You are naked before them; their senses are much more in tune with your emotions than mine. I am warning you not to betray your Jedi stature,” Qui-gon explained. Obi-wan hung his head and closed his eyes, concentrating on his master’s words and reviewing them. Of course Qui-gon had known something was happening within Obi-wan- had he guessed it was emotion, affection in particular? Would he say so if he did? Did he know that it was Padme that Obi-wan had been feeling drawn to? Qui-gon may not know these things, but Yoda might be able to perceive Obi-wan far better, if not the rest of the council.

“Yes, Qui-gon, I understand.” Obi-wan said, nodding and raising his head. He would give no explanation for understanding of Qui-gon’s disapproval and disappointment…he was still fighting his battle against the temptations of emotion, and if he won, there would be no need for Qui-gon to know the struggle had ever taken place. With a final nod, Obi-wan turned towards the door that would lead them directly into the council chamber- he could sense that Qui-gon’s eyes were still upon him, and he silently apologized for the stress he was causing to his friend. I’m sorry, but you cannot understand.

The council did not believe the assassin and attacker to be a Sith, but if they had seen the black-clad figure wielding its red blade against Qui-gon, they would have felt the presence of sheer evil. Obi-wan felt a wave of bitterness, though he could not place to whom it was directed…perhaps at Qui-gon, because his master was too unorthidox to be in the council and therefore have a far more important voice in such matters. Perhaps at the council, that they would not take Qui-gon despite his elaborate ways. Perhaps at himself, for feeling bitterness to begin with- it was another emotion plaguing him. Was he weak to fall victim to it? He was better than this!

“With this Naboo queen you must stay, Qui-Gon. Protect her.”

They were to stay with Amidala to assure that she would be safe from the alleged attacker. What was this now stirring within him- pleasure? Happiness was not forbidden, but the source of Obi-wan’s joy was…if they were to remain with Amidala, that meant that he could remain around Padme. Being with her was soothing, but so confusing- it made him evaluate himself and question who he was. He could not leave her yet…he had not untangled his feelings and decided upon a course of action to take against them…he had not unveiled her mystery that was strong enough for Qui-gon to sense, even though he viewed her aura as irrelevant to the mission. He could not be without her, and it was driving him mad.

Yoda was watching him, and as brief as his glance had been, Obi-wan felt deeply unsettled. Had his superior Jedi seen through his rain of thoughts? Had Yoda made his statement to review Obi-wan’s inward reaction? Obi-wan was relieved at the end of their discussion and bowed sincerely, then turned to leave with far more weight upon him than he had felt upon arrival. But Qui-gon was not done- he felt obligated to remain and tell the council about the boy…it was obvious that Master Windu and Master Yoda both disproved of Qui-gon’s assumptions, and Obi-wan felt a slight verge in Qui-gon’s spirit…he truly believed the boy to be the chosen one referred to in ancient prophesies. Obi-wan felt a slight tinge within him, particularly in his heart- not jealousy, thankfully, but perhaps an acknowledgement that his master might be undertaking another Padawan very soon, if the council successfully tested the boy and approved of his training. Obi-wan must appear as ready to step out as a prepared Jedi when the time came. He must be ready for the trials, as he was already facing them within himself as it was.

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“Where’s Qui-gon?” The youthful tone of Anakin’s voice asked. Obi-wan glanced up from his meditating stance, surprised. These were Qui-gon’s chambers, and his master had been absent for quite sometime…how had Anakain gotten in without Obi-wan sensing his approach?

“He’s gone to the Jedi Temple to prepare for your testing.” Obi-wan replied, shifting comfortably in his kneeling position and looking at the sandy haired boy that was standing in the doorway across the room. Looking disappointed, Anakin nodded and comfortable slouched into the room and sat down on the floor across of Obi-wan. Obi-wan smiled, wary that the boy was feeling nervous and fearful.

“What can I do for you, Anakin?” Obi-wan asked patiently. His mediation had put him into a more relaxed state than he had felt in quite some time, particularly because of his interaction with Padme. Anakin shifted awkwardly- I make him nervous, Obi-wan thought with amusement. The two of them had had little interaction since their meeting, since Qui-gon had always been with just one or the other and Obi-wan had been too busy with his trauma involving Padme to pursue a relationship with the boy.

“Is it okay if I go see Padme?” Obi-wan heart stilled in his chest. “I haven’t seen her since we got here, and I want to talk to her before I have to go to the temple.” Obi-wan breathed in deeply, thinking over the boy’s words for a moment before coming to a conclusion. This was the chance he needed to once and for all evaluate his feelings towards the beautiful handmaiden…he needed to talk to her one last time to seal off his emotions and not look at her with affection again.

“I’ll take you to her,” Obi-wan offered. “I’m in need of stretching my legs.” He smiled, helping Anakin to his feet and moving for the doorway. “Come on!” He insisted, looking over his shoulder to see that the boy was still sitting down, obviously surprised at Obi-wan’s comments. It was a short way to Senator Palpatine’s quarters, where the Queen was being hosted, and they made good time as Obi-wan found himself walking particularly fast towards their destination. Obi-wan paused at the end of the hall, seeing two flanked guards up ahead and deciding that it would be best if he and Anakin made separate arrivals.

“Anakin,” he said to the boy at his side, who looked up with his alarmingly large eyes with question. “Go on and tell them you’ve come to see Padme, I’ll wait out here for you until you’re done.”

Anakin nodded nervously and approached the guards, who saw him in. Obi-wan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, his smile smug at his brilliant idea to tag-team with the boy to visit Padme. He could not meet her eyes, Obi-wan decided…it would be his fate. Those dark brown eyes were what had drawn him in the first place, and he could not fall victim to their magnitude now. He would simply demand an explanation, tell her that he could no longer play their small relations, and then leave with little else to say…what if she denied anything at all? What if he was attracted to her, but she felt nothing more than annoyance with him? Why did that idea bother him- he mused and pondered…affection was proving to be tricky, and it came included with other emotions that were equally confusing.

Anakin emerged a moment later, looking disappointed and downcast. What had happened?

“Anakin, are you alright?” Obi-wan asked.

“She wasn’t there.” Anakin sighed, with a shrug. “I just hope I get to see her again, someday.” Obi-wan’s heart wrenched in his chest- she wasn’t there…he would continue to be bothered by the mentality of her, and what he was feeling even worse about was what the boy had mentioned. What if Obi-wan could not see Padme again as well? Would she forever haunt him, or would her face fade from his mind?

“Trust that you will.” Obi-wan said, though he doubted his own words. He was suffering at the fate of his relationship with one he could not feel for at all. “Come, I’ll take you back to Qui-gon’s chambers, he will be waiting to take you to the temple…”

“Oh, I can go on my own- the Queen wants to see you anyways.” Anakin remembered, waving goodbye and moving away from the frozen Obi-wan. The queen wanted to see him? Not Qui-gon, but him specifically? Odd. Obi-wan moved towards the chambers and passed the guards, who did not question his entrance. Queen Amidala’s elaborate form greeted him, and Obi-wan bowed deeply in greeting. She was in her senate gown, but other than that, Obi-wan noticed little other than the strange feeling warming within his chest at her presence…undoubtedly because of her importance.

“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?” Obi-wan asked with his hands kept stiffly in his brown sleeves as the Queen surveyed him. Her face, which was pasted in her traditional paint, remained still and expressionless even as she spoke.

“Padme has spoken of you to me, and that you two have bonded particularly well. I wish to know more of the capital, and as I did on Tatooine I wish that Padme be escorted around the city to learn of it for me. Since you two seemed to have become acquainted, I wish you to take her.” Amidala spoke firmly, as though she expected no doubt in his response. Obi-wan simply stared, his mouth sliding open in shock at her words. How in the force had this happened? Speaking with Padme for a brief moment would be one thing- but spending an entire day with her would torment Obi-wan out of his senses! He could not do it and maintain his hopes to push her presence from his heart.

“Your Majesty, these are dire times and the council needs my cooperation. I will recommend a loyal guard or pilot that will take your handmaiden where’ere she wishes, but my duty is to your protection.”

“And if you wish to protect me, you will spare me displeasure and take her.” The Queen’s chin was upraised the slightest bit and her eyes flamed with authority…Obi-wan could state a thousand reasons to avoid such an outing, but something within him awoke. Perhaps after a day of Padme’s presence to himself, he could fully evaluate his emotions on an even stronger level then a mere conversation. However, was he just saying that because he wished to be beside her?

“I will have to discuss it with the council.”

“It has been done and confirmed by your master, he has approved of my request. He said that tomorrow would be best, as an immediate reaction by the Senate may not yet have been reached. If you’ll excuse me, I am sure you know that the Senate is having a special meeting I am due for. Where shall I tell Padme to wait?”

This can’t be happening, Obi-wan thought with disbelief, his head swimming. Had Padme planned this or did the Queen truly wish to know of the city? Did Padme exhibit as much distress at the order as he?

“Tell her that I shall come find her in the courtyard tomorrow morning, and if I arrive before her I shall look for her.” Obi-wan bowed deeply, flinching as he turned his back and could convey how he truly felt without fear of the Queen see his expression. The Queen said nothing as he left, obviously anxious to prepare for the Senate meeting.

As the day progressed, Obi-wan found himself thinking of Padme constantly, and thinking of the places he could take her that would be informative to the queen. They could visit the archives, the senate estate- possibly. The estate would undoubtedly be at an uproar with the Naboo decision at hand: perhaps it would be best to avoid that part of Coruscant. For city culture, he could think of several places they could pass through, but it would be difficult. Some citizens of Coruscant, if not many, disliked the Jedi’s interference with their normal lives and seeing the knights in the city always caused a bit of an uproar. It would be tricky to avoid the places where Obi-wan would be recognized, but Obi-wan figured they could manage as long as Padme was willing to be subtle.

“Obi-wan,” Qui-gon addressed his padawan later in the day, after the Senate concession had closed. Amidala had placed a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum, surprising nearly everyone with an exception of Senator Palpatine. After the mass majority of the Senate had demanded an immediate vote, it was decided that the following day would begin the vote for new nominations…Obi-wan was nearly relieved that he would not be present for the full day of arguments and voting- it would be catastrophic. “When you escort Padme tomorrow, I assume you know the places you cannot take her.”

“Yes master.” Obi-wan grinned, reflected on several places that he and Qui-gon had sought out someone and made quite a mess of the situation. For instance, at Brollia’s Hover Repair, they had once entirely and literally blown up several expensive speeders that could not be replaced, and in the same day they had found in necessary to demolish most of the building’s walls to find their culprit. Needless to say, Brollia was not pleased, and the angered and large Annoodat had caused such a ruckus with his displeasure that the Jedi had found it best to remain out of his way- even when the need came for speeder production.

“Good. Obi-wan, be careful,” Qui-gon insisted as the walked side by side down the large and seemingly cavernous halls in the Jedi temple. Before Obi-wan could question his master’s statement, Qui-gon held up a silencing palm and said, “I sense that at that Padme lies at the core of your confusion.”

Fear and panic gripped Obi-wan, and a vision of losing his Jedi status and being expelled from the Jedi order overcame him. No, he told himself to calm down. Qui-gon had a feeling, and he merely suspected Obi-wan…not to mention, Obi-wan had not done anything to deserve expulsion, and he did not plan on it. They could not judge his future from his thoughts.

“I still sense she is hiding something, Qui-gon, and I merely wish to seek it out.”

“That I understand, it has been a concern of mine as well. But you cannot dwell on her, Obi-wan…I know that you aren’t simply seeking out her company to question her, though that is what it may have started as. You are confused by her presence. I have felt it.” Qui-gon said, overlapping Obi-wan’s attempt to defend himself. Qui-gon paused in mid-step and turned entirely to his friend, his face solemn with concern. Obi-wan returned the stare, wielding a gaze equally strong and resistant. After a moment of silence, Obi-wan nodded deeply and said,

“I know the dangers, Qui-gon…I won’t allow anything change dramatically within me that with comprehend my life as a Jedi.” Obi-wan spoke honestly- the code was his priority, and his life as a Jedi was far more important that his life as a human. He would deflect anything that attempted to burn within him further…affection was not permanent, or so he would be forced to make it. Qui-gon said nothing but nodded his head, obviously terminating their discussion by changing the subject with his following words.

“I am going to dicuss Anakin’s testing with the council now. I’ll contact you by comlink tomorrow for when you are to return with Padme and accompany Anakin and me to hear the council’s decision.”

Obi-wan could not stand it much longer- Anakin may have the senses of the Jedi, but he was far too old to begin training! The council would not have it, and Qui-gon’s nearly non-existent reputation and dignity would entirely be diminished in his failing attempt for the council to approve of the boy’s training. Obi-wan knew that Qui-gon was a wise, humble, and brave man that he had always longed to be like- but the rest of the Jedi may not see him as such after this mishap. Obi-wan did not wish to see his closest friend and master fail for such a trivial matter, and though it would undoubtedly bring his master’s disapproval, he had to voice his disagreement.

“The boy will not pass the Council's tests, Master, and you know it. He is too old.”

“Anakin will become A Jedi...I promise you.”

“Don't defy the Council, Master..not again.”

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Obi-wan’s palms were sweating, he realized with dismay as he approached the courtyard outside of Senator Palpatine’s courtyards the following morning. Half of him hoped he would arrive before Padme so as to have time to calm his senses; the other half hoped she would already be there so they could begin their day with no delays. As to remain somewhat unrecognized as a Jedi, he had not worn his long brown cloak- but his lightsabre remained pinned at his side, hidden by the dark brown belt that overlaid his tan tunic. As he walked through the courtyard, his leather boots silently hissed against one another, tuning in with the morning sounds of the great city around him. He glanced up, feeling the cool breeze of Coruscant’s atmosphere swiping at his somewhat flushed cheeks and refreshing his pulsing mind. The tall skyscrapers of the Galactic city disappeared in the foggy and red sky overhead, but the mist did not delay anxious citizens heading to where’ere the desired in their airspeeders and crafts far overhead. The Manarai Mountains, twin peaks that reached untouched beside the Imperial Palace, were surrounded by floating restaurants that served as tourist locations over the western sea.

Sounds of Senator Palpatine’s haunting, black chimes sang through the courtyard in greeting as Obi-wan passed them, nudging him with his hands as he went and listening to their voices with a calmed expression. The courtyard was a fine, white stone that was silk beneath one’s fingers and yet as strong as steel. Both domestic and exotic plants had been planted within the courtyard, giving it a jungle-like appearance that was easy to get lost within. Perhaps that was why Obi-wan felt Padme’s presence before seeing her- she seemed nervous and panicked, as well as confused and frustrated. Obi-wan could not help but grin as he turned a corner and saw her walking briskly through the green courtyard with a look of sheer malice spread over her porcelain features.

“Are we lost?” He asked in greeting, and she turned to him with narrowed eyes. Obi-wan could not help but admire her beauty: for a handmaiden, she managed to look graceful and royal in every way imaginable. Perhaps the Queen demanded that her servants dress mannerly…it didn’t matter, Padme would have been beautiful even without the rich, scarlet dress that she donned. It held to her chest in a loose manner and was cut in an empire lining beneath the breast: from there, it held to her waist snugly in velvet before becoming loose at her hips and falling in folds all around her feet. The sleeves of the dress were laced to her elbow and fell open at her forearm, though a single strand of the rich, red material was laced around her forefingers. Her long and silken hair was half pulled back from her face and half left down to rest against her small frame; gold ribbon had been laced through several curls. Obi-wan felt a smug and sheepish grin coming to his face, and he inwardly scowled at himself. Had she dressed this way to impress him? Why was he pleased at the idea…he was being such a hypocrite with his reasoning!

“Did you purposely decide we should meet here so you could watch me get lost?” Padme demanded with a snarl, her hands planted on her hips. Obi-wan stiffly bowed.

“Lovely to see you again as well. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” His sincere greeting seemed to break down her scolding attitude, and she actually managed a smile that suggested she was not at all mad at him, but teasing.

“No. I actually enjoyed it…it’s very beautiful here.” She said, lifting her head and glancing at the courtyard’s features surrounding them. Obi-wan watched the admiration in her eyes with uncertainty. This day is for evaluation, not pleasure, he told himself, focusing on his master’s advice as he approached her.

“I have a Nubian cruiser waiting in the hanger.”

“Where are we going?” She asked, still beaming as she returned his eyes to him. Obi-wan withheld a shudder- she was so unnaturally beautiful. Why had he never realized the definition of beauty before now? Stop it.

“I’ve got several places in mind that I thought the Queen might want to be informed of. Industrial area, the Western Sea-“ Obi-wan paused, seeing something flicker through Padme’s features like a small wave of disappointment. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” She said, unconvincingly. Obi-wan sighed with a smirk, turning towards the closest exit of the courtyard’s that would take them towards the hanger. Padme followed, her pace brisk and full of respect as she caught up to his side. “Maybe…” She began and then stopped, as though carefully picking her words. “Maybe the Queen would rather hear of things she would prefer to experience herself…things that a normal citizen would encounter on a daily basis.”

Obi-wan’s pulse quickened. She wants to go places unrelated to politics. Perhaps this outing is not for the Queen at all. He was feeling slightly hopeful at the idea, but he was finding that his discomfort and alarm at his feelings in relation to her were fading in her presence. She was walking close to him- too close. Much too close.

“Then we can start in Quadrant H-46, also called Sah’c Town, after the bloodline that own must of it’s sector. It’s more of a residential area, but if everyday life is what the Queen desires to see, it would be a good place to start, I suppose.”

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“You’re teasing me.” Padme laughed, her voice suspicious but happy. Obi-wan laughed in return, nodding in admittance that his story about accidentally demolishing a Numbian bar was slightly out of context. Though he subconsciously was ignoring it, as the day had been progressing he had thought less and less about evaluating his feeling and more and more about the girl he was beside. Just to feel less guilty about his outing with her, he truly did take her towards the industrial side of Coruscant, though only briefly as it was one of the areas Jedi were known as “scum”. In the residential areas, they abandoned their speeder and had walked in the busy streets, pausing briefly to visit a few alien companions that Obi-wan had mentioned continuously in his stories. Obi-wan was flattered but confused- Padme seemed far more interested in his stories than she actually did about the city he was showing her. Perhaps it was time he abandoned trying to educate her and simply show her a good time.

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he pressed the accessible comlink to hail a hover taxi that nearly zoomed right overhead. Padme looked at him with a start, her face going momentarily slack with unspoken words but then hesitantly turning into a smile.

“Yes.” She replied and climbed into the taxi. The overhead glass hissed shut as Obi-wan settled in next to her, thinking of the places he could take her that would be sanitary and enjoyable at the same time…but then again, why did it matter- she was a handmaiden, she was undoubtedly used to rougher circumstances…but she was still a lady…You’re doing it again. Obi-wan scolded himself- why was he constantly waging a war with himself over her?

Moments later, the taxi zoomed away, leaving them outside of a modest, one-leveled building with droids whistling across the windows with trays held in their robotic hands. Obi-wan grinned- this place held many memories. Growing up, he always used to come here as a youngling to here his friend, Dexter Jettster, tell many stories of his adventurous days with the Republic. As Obi-wan grew older and matured, he realized that Dex was not only wise beyond his race, but also a valuable ally to have when it came to sorting out mysteries involving other races and technologies.

“Dexter’s Diner?” Padme questioned with a smile. Obi-wan watched her, glad to see she looked pleased…he liked making her happy, he realized with a start he easily hid. Suddenly, she laughed. “I’m sure the Queen will enjoy hearing about this.” She moved quickly for the door, entering and nearly leaving Obi-wan to gawk outside. Once inside, the handmaiden moved to find them a table, but amidst her attempt she was startled by a large and heavenly-accented voice crying out from the kitchen.

“Obi-wan Kenobi! It’s been a while since you’ve been by…I was wondering when you’d come back and pester again.” A large, four-armed alien moved into view from behind the counter. Padme took a step closer to Obi-wan, but not out of alarm…judging by her facial expression, she was rather curious to meet Dex, despite his grizzly appearance. Obi-wan’s grin grew larger as Dex moved to embrace him- a time old tradition between the two of them…not surprisingly, it had become far less painful as Obi-wan had grown larger and stronger- when he was a child, it felt as though Dex were choking the life from him!

“And who’s this? ‘Nother Jedi?”

“No, just a guest. Padme, meet Dexter Jettster, Dex, Padme.” Obi-wan gestured between the two, pleased to see that Padme’s grin had grown ten-fold at the introduction.

“Hello De-“ Padme began, but Obi-wan was horrified and yet amused to see she was cut off by Dex’s arms wrapping around her and drawing her in close in a massive but friendly hug.

“Always pleased to meet a friend.” Dex continued, scratching at his side with one of his four arms. From over Dex’s orange-toned shoulder, Obi-wan caught Padme’s pleading and watering gaze and somewhat panicked- powers of the force, he was going to kill her! Laughing, Obi-wan clamped a firm hand on Dex.

“Dex, are you going to do your job or make us raid your kitchen?”

At the reminder, Dex set down Padme and moved back behind the counter with a chuckle, waving his left top arm in a jovial gesture. Obi-wan moved his hands to support Padme, as she seemed a little weakened by Dex’s tight grasp and looked to be tottering on her feet. The feel of her sides beneath his palms soothed him.

“Let me know what I can do for ya when yer ready.” Dex offered and turned back towards his kitchen with his greasy wrap retied around his waist. When Padme had caught her breath, she burst out in laughter and pushed Obi-wan’s hands away.

“You Jedi live interesting lives.” She said, shaking her head and taking the initiative to sit down at the nearest empty table. Obi-wan watched her recovery in amazement and respect, following her lead and sitting across from her. Her white hands moved over the ticking menu screen on the table, selecting the different meals and appetizer explanations to be projected as a hologram. Obi-wan watched her speechlessly, already knowing what he wanted to eat and taking his stolen time to examine her…how had they come to this point so soon? It felt as though he did not know her at all…her childhood, her pastimes- her life- it was all hidden from him. And yet he felt so close to her, as though he was naked before her. Not to mention, there was that shrouding mystery that played through his mind like a redundant hologram- Don’t dwell on it…not now! Obi-wan pleaded with himself, retracting his gaze to gesture to a droid that they were ready to order. Don’t ruin the time you’ve been given with these thoughts…just let them pass. Please!

After they ordered, they remained silent for a few minutes, for lack of anything to comfortably discuss.

“Has your arm entirely healed?” Padme finally asked, gesturing to the spot where he had suffered the lightsabre burn. Surprised that she would wonder such a thing, Obi-wan nodded deeply. Not even a scar remained.

“How long have you been in Her Majesties service?” Obi-wan asked. He needed to know more about her…he wanted to know more about her. He couldn’t stand the feeling that she was a complete stranger and yet so close to him already. He wished he had chosen another topic to discuss, for as soon as he asked it of her, she withdrew her gaze and seemed preoccupied and uncomfortable. Perhaps she did not like her duty to the queen, though most would spend their lives in pursuit of such an honor.

“Several years. When do you suppose you will become a Jedi master?” She asked in return, and Obi-wan wondered if she was asking an equally difficult question out of vengeance.

“I don’t know. It depends on how ready the council believes I am to endure the responsibility of a Jedi knight without a master. Where were you raised?” Obi-wan questioned. Padme started again, her gaze flickering. Was she lying? He sensed something…the mysterious shroud was widening, concealing more of her life that Obi-wan wished to be able to see.

“In a small mountain village of Naboo. How long have you known Qui-gon?”

“Since I was a youngling.” Obi-wan decided not to return with a question, as so far he had not succeeded in making her comfortable with the ones he had chosen. Again, the two were enveloped in a brief period of silence before the droid server returned with thick looking drinks and light foods to accompany them. They ate in silence until Padme placed down her fork with a frustrated clatter and demanded,

“Why did you say what you did on our way back from Tatooine?”

“I’m sorry?” Obi-wan started, confused at her sudden change in aura. She was no longer coming across as kind, gentle, and humble- but had returned to her bold and demanding state of being that had first captured Obi-wan’s attention. Her eyes were somewhat narrowed and her lips folded into a thin line, while her chin was tilted slightly upward at a superior angle. Where did she get such dignity?

“You seemed persistent that I have many faces and am hiding something. What do you suspect? Why did you ask it like that?” She asked honestly, pushing aside her plate in defiance and leaning back with her arms folded over her chest. Obi-wan watched her through amused eyes…why did she care so much? His words had been self-explanatory…she was obviously guilty about something and wanted to find peace within herself for whatever it was she was hiding. That was perhaps why she was being so defensive in spite of herself.

“As a Jedi, I can feel out much that your feeling and through that can sometimes assume things about you…but I can’t…” Obi-wan stopped, at a loss for words at her stare. Nothing could explain what he had felt the first time he had locked eyes with her, let alone would anything attempting to define the sensation sound complimentary. Padme’s eyes altered again and she leaned forward, now gazing at him from beneath thick lashes with patience. The expression alarmed him, and he had to look away to keep his pulse from quickening again.

“What is it, Obi-wan?” She asked, comfort in her tone. She could sense his distress, he realized with alarm. Pull back the reins, he ordered himself. She was hiding everything, and yet she expected him to reveal his entire thought process? What liberty did she have in that? Obi-wan’s hands settled around his mug that was brewing with the thick liquid of Dex’s special drought. He hadn’t ordered it; Dex always assumed Obi-wan was in need of a strong drink, for some odd reason…and thankfully, he actually needed it now!

“Jedi business.” He said simply, allowing his tone some edge to inform her that she had no right to know everything that passed through his mind. Padme recoiled, obviously stunned at his lack of respect…powers of the force, I’m becoming as bad as Qui-gon!

“I have a right to know.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Because it’s about me!”

“And you think I know everything that goes on behind my back?” Obi-wan asked in exasperation. He knew the council discussed his progress, his feelings, his mistakes…and that Qui-gon thought often of his Padawan. The thought discomforted him, but he had adapted to it over the years. As Obi-wan thought this, he had not realized that Padme was glowering at him with authority again.

“So it’s something behind my back, and not just some…some…” She stuttered for the right word in her rage. “…Some rash comment from a Jedi padawan?”

“Jedi do not make rash comments, Padme.” Obi-wan coldly said, knowing that the statement was hypocrisy on his part but not caring. She was a handmaiden- what justified her ordering him about as she did? He should be the one overseeing her! Not to mention, she didn’t treat Qui-gon or any of the other Jedi this way…in fact, she had barely enough will to speak to them! “But it is nothing behind your back, either. Qui-gon has sensed it in you as well…you’re hiding something, and you can’t keep it shielded forever.”

This seemed to truly turn over Padme’s worse side, and she snapped, “I don’t need to. I only need to shield it until we return to Naboo and you remain here.”

Obi-wan froze, her words hitting home…so she didn’t care if they departed and went their separate ways then? Perhaps he was being irrational in his attraction after all. He remained silent, wishing he could leave her in the diner to fend for herself so he could go wield his lightsabre and harness the frustration for what he felt.

“No…wait,” she sighed. Obi-wan glanced back at her. The anger and authority in her face was now mingling with distress. She glanced around several times to review who was present and within hearing range, and then returned her deep brown eyes towards Obi-wan. “I’ve known that you’ve sensed this in me, even though I haven’t dealt with Jedi before I know their ways and I knew I couldn’t hide this…but I’m not ready to divulge it yet, and I ask you to be patient. It will surface, I promise you. But not till the appropriate moment.”

She was speaking wisely, like a grown woman with years of experience behind her. Worse, she was speaking like a politician- she had been around the Queen for far too long. Obi-wan nodded his head, wanting her to know he understood. Whatever she was hiding, whether or not it be relevant to the mission, what important, and Obi-wan felt it needed to be exposed at some point. However, it would be on her time, even if she was inferior to the Jedi in ranking. When he glanced back up at her to speak, he nearly jumped backward in alarm. She was leaning over the table, watching him as he thought with her dark eyes shielded by her long and graceful curls…there was nothing suggestive in her manner, but being so close to her was startling. He had to now fight the desire to reach out and hold her face…the attraction was becoming stronger.

“Well, I’m done. There’s a lot left of Coruscant to see before dusk.” Obi-wan said, hopefully ending the awkward moment as he stood and offered his hands to assist her. Though she did not need the assistance, she took his hands anyway, gladly going along with being lifted to her feet. Obi-wan said a quick farewell to Dex and stepped outside, his pulse still thundering from having been so close to those gorgeous brown eyes he had been avoiding.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” Padme noticed with surprise and worry in her voice once they had been waiting for a taxi speeder for a few moments. With surprise and nearly dread, Obi-wan glanced at his hands, seeing that they were moving with a slight tremor as he held them in front of his face.

“That’s odd.” He said simply, leaving it at that and returning his hands to his side. He turned his attention to the crafts overhead, looking for an available craft that would take them into a few more of Coruscant’s quadrants for further exploration of the city. As he stood with his eyes turned upward, he felt a soft hand brush against his…Padme had shifted where she stood, knocking into him nonchalantly and remaining oblivious to their touch. She was torturing him, and she didn’t even know it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Chapter 4

The First Touch

For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of our tasks; the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.- Rainer Rilke

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The sea hissed against the resilient surface of their aquatic-speeder as Obi-wan used the controls to propel the ship towards the surface, some hundred-feet overhead. He glanced beside him, pleased to see that Padme was enjoying herself and was contented in the small vehicle he had gained possession of. It was lit dimly in cerulean lights to match the aquatic scene of the Western Sea enveloping them, and it’s duo seats were padded and textured to be water resilient. The entire upper half of the dome-shaped craft was a glass derived substance that seemingly magnified the sea life around them and exaggerated the rare creatures and exotic plants they had passed within the past hour’s limits. They had scene no human life yet, and it was no wonder why…Obi-wan hadn’t mentioned to her that many of Coruscant’s patrons knew better than to comb the Western Sea for relaxation: it was occupied by far too many dangerous beings to attempt a safe journey. The young padawan trusted his instincts and his knowledge of his home planet enough to brave the sea for it’s beauty, and if by chance they encountered a dangerous element, he trusted Padme would understand.

Padme released a small chortle of astonishment as the ship turned nearly vertically to break the surface, and as it did, it seemingly leapt with enthusiasm as though desiring fresh air as much as the two beings it held within its hull. Obi-wan hurried to adjust the controls so that the ship would become ostensibly limp on the water’s surface and drift, then he pulled the lever to release the glass slide overhead. It pulled open silently, and as Obi-wan continued to cool down the engine, Padme stood with excitement. With her feet planted firmly on her seat, she steadied herself by holding onto the metal rim that the glass attached to when closed and took a deep breath of the scene surrounding them. In the distance, over many turned waves of the Western Sea, the high skyscrapers of Coruscant stretched into the auburn sky that was on fire with the setting sun. The clouds were low over the mountains to the East, and the land to the South was so beyond eyesight that it appeared they were as pawns upon a deep azure board. The waves lolled along, unsettled and yet not stirring to the point of capping. Their peaks massaged the speeder and carried it along, towards no particular destination and yet with some unspoken purpose caressed in their pointed crests. The sky, though still light at the lowest of points over the city, stretched to gradual darkness of scarlet and ebony that was entwined with a fitful braid of starry blue directly overhead and wound with straggling clouds of thinned gray.

“It reminds me of Naboo,” Padme said in awe, looking down to Obi-wan with a childish smile. Though he was preoccupied with the engine of their speeder, Obi-wan spared her a glance that lingered for a moment on her hair…the dark brown ringlets now had scarlet highlights that were glossy and radiant against her pink-toned face that maintained its youthful stature in the fragility of the moment. And yet there was disdain upon her face, and he felt suffering pulsing through her weakly, as though it was taking all of her being to withhold a complete exhalation of pain like a deep space storm or tide. Obi-wan quickly finished his mechanical adjustments and stood upon the floor space available within the cramped speeder- he did not need to stand upon his chair to be taller than her, for now even though he stood upon a plane nearly a foot lower than her seat, the top of his head was only several inches below hers so that he had to look up the slightest bit to meet her eyes.

“You fear for your home,” Obi-wan guessed, judging by the strained expression in her eyes and the maturity lining her lips. Time lingered before she replied, as she was obviously deeply dwelling on his comment with uncertainty.

“I have many there that I care for.” She replied, pursing her lips and turning her gaze back towards the city to avoid further confrontation involving the subject. Obi-wan said nothing but shifted his own gaze in the direction of the city, memories flooding his vision as he could pick out various locations and times in his mind’s eye that he had spent in Coruscant, where he had been raised. As a youngling, he had first been trained by Yoda- it was a prerequisite for all younglings to undergo sessions with Master Yoda, as he was stronger in the force than nearly all the other recognized Jedi in the council. After the age of ten, he was assigned a master to train him for the remainder of his time as a Padawan, which of course, had been Qui-gon. The years within the force had truly treated him well, though significantly speaking, time was of no consequence within the force as it ordained and consumed all with such magnitude that no comparison was necessary.

“What is it like to be a Jedi?” Padme asked. She had been leaning her chin upon her hands, which were folded over the brim of the ship comfortably and lead to her limp elbows that were also set loosely over the edge. Obi-wan pondered the question, pausing briefly on the idea that there was no possible explanation for a question demanding such an expanse of answers and absolutes.

“Difficult,” he said honestly. “Painful…tiring…strengthening…cleansing…”

“Lonely?” She asked. Obi-wan stared at her thoughtfully, considering it in relation to his feelings for her.

“At times, yes. But we learn not to dwell on it, as it is typically an extension of sorrow.” He shrugged, smiling a little as he gazed into the pools of waves lisping at the side of the ship. Padme stared at him hard, her thin brows creasing as she pondered his words with obvious disagreement.

“But how can that be? If you look at it from that point of view,” she lifted her chin from her hands, now gesturing with frustration as she tried to grasp words fitting for her expression. “Every emotion can be directly related to another. If you can feel lonely, but not sorrow, can you feel pleased but not happy? It’s a paradox.”

“No it isn’t.” Obi-wan chuckled. “It’s a perspective issue. It depends on our judgment of our feelings.” He admired her desire for intellectual depth and mutual understanding, and yet her stubbornness and persistency was seemingly the bane of their friendship…yet the more he was with her, the less the things that had once bothered him mattered. His perspective on her was undergoing some challenging metamorphosis, as though she were dictating his thoughts of her with her beauty, her touch, and her presence. Being beside her was causing him to stumble into a dark void that was consuming his loyalty and demanding his respect- he had to feel out the force in her, he had to understand the desires racing through his mind that were overcoming his desires as a Jedi.

“So you can have feelings then? Just not emotion?” Padme asked, her head turned mockingly to the side as she surveyed him so as to challenge what he had said.

“Even Jedi cannot be void of feeling.” Obi-wan admitted. Obviously, his internal suffering was a prime example of exactly what they were debating. “But submitting to that feeling and allowing it to dictate your perspective and output is letting it become emotion.”

“It all seems very hypocritical to me.” Padme stated, giving up on the conversation with a half-laugh tossed into Coruscant’s evening breeze. Obi-wan looked at her dryly, his sarcastic wit emerging as he bit back a comment about politics- Padme could not help that she was so closely related to the Queen, and therefore closely related to politics and the extensions of its reach. And it was not his place to disapprove of the Senate, the Republic, the voting, the lies involved…but it all seemed contradictory to him, though not in the way Padme had made the comparison with the Jedi order. He rather thought that politics were established for the people but endured for the power- as Qui-gon always stated, greed was a powerful ally but a dangerous companion.

“We should swim.” Padme suddenly suggested, her smile large and mischievous as she surveyed Obi-wan for his reaction. Obi-wan raised his eyebrows cynically, smirking as he returned his gaze with an overpowering one.

“Oh trust me, if you knew what I did about this lake, you wouldn’t suggest such a thing.” He said, turning away from her with the intentions of sitting back down and waiting till she was done to take the ship back under for return to Coruscant. Padme stubbornly glared down at him, obviously not enjoying feeling inferior and left in the dark.

“You could tell me what you know so I don’t continue to be tempted to jump in while we’re just floating here.” She said defiantly, though she couldn’t withhold her smile for longer than a second of glaring. As though trying to prove her words, she moved her hand across the lever that would retract the ship’s walls, and sure enough the remainder of the glass that surrounded them shrunk down into the base of the speeder, making it appear only a raft with inward technology. Obi-wan rolled his eyes, knowing full well that she would not swim. Foremost, she was smart enough not to endanger herself, and secondly no self-respecting female would swim while in such formal attire.

“Or I could just watch you jump in and sink in your heavy dress while also being taken under by one of the swimming thranta that inhabit our lovely little sea.” Obi-wan responded pointedly, now chuckling cynically as he watched Padme’s face shift to one of surprise and alarm while she quickly raised the glass walls. After feeling secure once again, she slumped back into her seat and laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head at Obi-wan’s calm demeanor and sense of humor that had caught her off guard.

“You would have come after me if I had jumped.” Padme said simply, surprising Obi-wan that she was still so defiant in everything they discussed. Or is she waiting for something? Obi-wan asked, knowing that she was surveying him as he prepared the ship to dive under the milky blue surface of the sea once again. Was she expecting that he would say something to explain what he was feeling, or was she simply continuing to confuse him without being aware of it?

“I would’ve had to. Qui-gon and the Queen would have been very sour if I had left you to fend for yourself.” Obi-wan wisely responded, refusing to let himself dig a hole yet again. He would not take this reviving day in that direction. Padme smiled and nodded silently, now glancing back out the window as she dove deeper into the shadows of the sea as though the absence of light had captured any words she had left to say. Obi-wan turned his attention in the polar opposite direction, refusing to admit her into his view…he couldn’t think straight when looking at her, and though his words were as calm and sarcastic as they had ever been he felt as though he were expressing them with meaning they had lacked for an eternity before meeting her. She was changing him, making him apt to sacrifices and attachment- he could not contradict the code!

“Have we seen enough to satisfy the Queen?” He asked, hesitantly admitting her back into his peripheral vision, where he could see her porcelain face turning back towards him slowly.

“She will be reminded of what she has to love back on Naboo,” she replied softly, as though absent and dependent on thoughts that burdened her. As you have been reminded, Obi-wan thought, closing his eyes briefly to concentrate the feelings pulsing through him. What was this new development…he was mourning for her sorrow, and he felt pain as though physically attached or mended with her being. You have let yourself take this far too deep. Obi-wan chided himself, gripping the handle of the throttle stick with particular force. Qui-gon had always told him that he thought he had been raised wise beyond his years, so why couldn’t he get a grip on his childish theories now, when he needed his sensibility most?

“Obi-wan,” speak of the devil, Obi-wan grinned, hearing Qui-gon’s voice come over the comlink at his hip. He unfastened it and raised the cool metal tool to his lips, exchanging a glance with Padme swiftly before being able to entirely flush his mind and begin anew.

“I’m here Qui-gon. What is it?”

“The council wishes for us to come with Anakin to the temple to discuss their decision regarding his training. Also, the Queen has requested Padme’s return, as Amidala will soon learn of the nominees of Supreme Chancellor and she wishes Padme to accompany her.”

“Right, we’re returning now. We’ll be there shortly.” Obi-wan promised, setting down the comlink and turning the speeder into the fastest route towards Coruscant. He turned to Padme, whose brow was crinkled as she seemed to be thinking deeply on what Qui-gon said. “I’ll take you to the Queen first.”

“Thank you,” Padme replied, her face now softening as Obi-wan’s voice seemed to draw her back into the reality of the moment. “Obi-wan.” Her voice was now shallow and soft, yet full of unspoken thoughts- I need to tell you something. Her face desperately alleged, but her eyes were shifting as though she was uncertain. She’s going to tell me what she’s been hiding, he realized with anticipation, distracted from the sea in front of them. He returned his gaze towards her, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other as he waited to hear the what he had been longing to know all the while they had been acquainted…however, the force stirred inside of him, and his Jedi senses came into play distractingly. She was struggling with this secret, Obi-wan realized with dismay, and she was making herself tell him to free her conscience and be on a level of deeper depth and relation with him. She wished to free herself of her secret to free him from his suspicion- This isn’t right.

“Don’t.” He said, disbelieving of the word that slipped from his barely parted lips. She glanced up at him in surprise, looking ready to speak but unprepared as Obi-wan continued by saying, “It will come when it’s time, I’m not holding it against you. It’s not the Jedi way.”

The expression that settled into Padme’s dark eyes would have set a man to fly had he been upon a mountain, but unfortunately; Obi-wan was several hundred feet below sea level. The moment passed swiftly, for Padme turned her affectionate eyes away awkwardly and began to play with a curl that she had pulled from the rest to twiddle between her thumb and forefinger. Obi-wan could not take her eyes from her, but he knew that it was not the time to divulge his feelings. It will come when it’s time. He repeated to himself mentally. His gaze returned to the smog of the dark sea around them, which was only lit by the solitary illumination protruding from the front of the aqua-speeder and stretching only several feet wide in comparison to the ship. The only sound was Padme’s breathing, which was shallow and soft, and the sound of the vehicle’s engine…Obi-wan’s breathing was too quiet and yet deep to be heard.

After a continuously silent ride to the city, followed by an equally quiet hover-taxi lift, Obi-wan was now escorting Padme towards Senator Palpatine’s estate, where she was to continue to the Queen’s quarters. For reasons Obi-wan didn’t know, Padme was in a continuous hurry to return- anxiety to care for the Queen, perhaps? She walked swiftly with her chin lifted high, but her eyes were turned down as though in deep contemplation, and every once and a while she would bite her lower lip in worry. Obi-wan once opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, only to be passed by her in a brisk walk and left to catch up and leave her in peace. Now that they were just outside of the Queen’s quarters, she was walking slowly, as though drawing the moment out that they had in stillness and serenity. The hall was empty; the guards were obviously within the Queen’s chambers. Now, as they halted outside of the doors, Padme paused and turned to Obi-wan.

“Thank you. I’m sure the Queen will express her gratitude when I tell her all that I have seen.” Padme said, surprising Obi-wan by lowering her head back to the humble position of a handmaiden. Before he knew what he was doing, Obi-wan stretched out his hand, which had been resting at the lightsabre on his hip, and touched the peak of her chin with the very ends of his gentle fingers. He lifted it up slowly and gently, wanting no more than to encourage her to hold her head up high, but finding that he had other reasons for it as the tips of his hands brushed against her face. Padme slowly lifted her eyes, which were swimming with confusion and defiance as a cup poured with thick ingredients might linger in separation. For a terrifying but somewhat entertaining moment, Obi-wan thought that she would slap his hand down and demand what his reasoning was. However, his fears were redeemed, for as swiftly as this gaze had come, it passed; her eyes returned to a solitary brown that held a new rationale in their depth. She slid her feet towards him and before Obi-wan could pull back in his Jedi’s ways, she shifted her face past his so that her downy cheek shifted against his coarse and bristling features, and then planted a small kiss on his cheek. It was a sudden and fleeting contact in which all that touched between them were the edges of her thin lips against the rough side of his jaw beneath his ear- but in the brief touch, Obi-wan’s life perspective fell into a bareness that caused all his sensibility and reasoning to collide with what he had been taught to deny since the first breath he had taken as a padawan learner. He remained planted where he stood, his hand still somewhat upraised where it had been under her chin and his eyes still locked forward.

The force surged through him like a fresh spring, and yet not in a way he had ever known. He had to harness it, he had to understand what power was holding him so still when he felt like collapsing because of her touch against his face. The deep void of cascading questions calling for answers within him was now being filled by the rushing spring that had refreshed his senses and indulged him in a new wisdom, a new understanding for life. He had dedicated the day to evaluating his feelings for her, and he had followed through with it, for he now could place precisely what he felt…he was attached to her, and he was attracted, but it had evolved into far more than that- only he had not been able to see through the mask he had placed over the feelings the force had placed within him. He could not give her anything, it was not in his conduct, it was not in the code, and it was not in his being…but he hated every second he took to calculate the result. He could not love her. He could not be taken under by deception, lies, and emotions…he could not commit the crime that the Jedi masters before him had always warned him would corrupt him and demand more loyalty than sense. It was not in his being to allow his void to be filled- the depth had to remain, as well as the hollow cavern the force flowed through- she could not fill it.

“I’m sorry.” Obi-wan said simply, now realizing that Padme was still beside him, her cheek against his. How long had it been since she had kissed him? Seconds? Moments? A lifetime? He stepped back and bowed deeply to her, his eyes never leaving hers. He could not be with her: he had sworn and oath and given his life to the Jedi and all that lies therein, which included the resounding words that were now sealing Obi-wan’s fate: There is no emotion, there is peace. There would be peace, no emotion. But there could be no peace within him until he could love her, and return the small gesture she had given him to define all that her eyes had revealed in the time the force had allowed between them.

“Me too.” Came her response, waking his fears. She knew his thoughts; the edgy and broken tone of her voice revealed that she had known what his response would be before she had even taken action. She turned towards the door, her chin tucked down once again- perhaps in one last definace of Obi-wan’s attempt to bring it up- and then disappeared from Obi-wan’s view, causing the void within him to echo like a slamming door with a cry of desired freedom and defiance. No. He yelled within himself, turning and stomping down the hallway in a near run, as though wanting to escape the same building the woman he could not love stood in. He didn’t know what he was defying with that one, stubborn word- was he defying emotions yet again, or was he now defying the Jedi code? He could not have each and not betray the other- it was a paradox, a hypocricy, a contradiction, a lie, a betrayal, and the breaking of the most imperative and defining oath that Obi-wan would ever have to hold to. He weighed the two as he walked, now approaching the speeder that would take him to the Jedi Temple to face the council…he could not see them while he was amidst such an inward battle, they would feel out his distress and act upon it- then not only would Qui-gon be bound to Obi-wan, but the matter of Anakin would be brushed aside…Obi-wan would not let his master’s determination be faultered by his mistakes. He had to decide and predict his actions, and he only had a brief period of minutes to think upon it.

The speeder hissed through the red atmosphere, half-way lighted by the sunset on the horizon. The droid piloting said nothing, and Obi-wan allowed himself the liberty of bowing his head, folding his elbows over his knees, and breathing deeply. There was sweat on his brow, and his pulse was quicker than it had ever been in a lightsabre duel while his hands trembled fitfully. He had always lived his life in black and white, and now it was not even gray…it was some undefinable shade imagined by younglings or predicted by the wisest of seers: the color of ruin and yet the color of joy, the shade that one’s soul altered to at the point of no return. No- he knew where the word was now directed…it burned within him, swelling like a tempest consumed by flames of anger, depression, desire, submission and enveloping his spirit and mind for the rest of his living years. His soul was the shade that defined the shadows within the point of no return- he loved her, and he would not cease to love her. But he could not reveal it, the council could not know…she could not know, it would only feed his tempest and drive him beyond the point he had reached. And yet admitting it to himself gave him such a peace that it controlled the eratic state he had fallen into in the small matter of moments- his hands stilled, and his eyes regained their composed gaze as though he were the same youthful padawan he had been months ago, before he had endangered his loyalty to the Jedi Code. Powers forgive me, he begged, feeling out the force within him that now shared the void with his feelings for Padme. As they came to a hault outside of the Jedi temple, Obi-wan climbed out calmly, seeing Anakin and Qui-gon waiting at the top of the stairs before him. With a deep breath, Obi-wan cursed silently and approached his closest friend with the same confident stride he had always exhibited…only now, he knew something that no one else could ever know.

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“Go on ahead, Anakin,” Qui-gon told the boy, his eyes focused on Obi-wan as they walked. Anakin skipped on ahead nervously, ignoring looks that younglings were passings between themselves at the sight of the boy rumored to have been tested. Obi-wan glanced back as his master dully- true, he would hide his feelings for Padme, but he would not panic and suffer for them as he had shortly before.

“How did everything go with Padme?” Qui-gon asked. “Well, I expect.”

“Yes, master,” Obi-wan said honestly, knowing that the day had changed his life and therefore could in fact be concluded as having gone well. He would tell Qui-gon everything…except, of course, the most important factor that had occurred in the final moments of Padme’s presence. In that reasoning, Obi-wan added, “Qui-gon, she was going to tell me what it was she has been hiding, but I wouldn’t hear it…I felt it wasn’t my place as a Jedi to guilt her into-“

“I expected you’d react like that, as I knew she would try to tell you.” Qui-gon mused, a small but tight smile on his face. Obi-wan stopped, shocked, his brow furried in confusion as he turned to his master in utter loss of words. “Obi-wan, be very cautious. She has feelings for you, I’ve felt it, and I feel you aren’t uncomfortable with the prospect.” A very, very large understatement. “You know it isn’t in line with the Jedi order, and you know it could put you in very large trouble with the council if they discovered something was happening between the two of you. The only conclusion I can make to as why they haven’t said anything to me about it yet is that I might have an advantage over them in knowing you like a son.” Qui-gon said seriously, turning to Obi-wan and planting his hands on the padawan’s shoulders. Obi-wan felt the great weight of pressure, not in Qui-gon’s touch, but in knowing that his master would know if anything continued between him and Padme. He could say nothing to defend himself: it would be a lie. All he could do was listen to Qui-gon’s words and apply them as best he could, but such a feat was impossible as he had already sworn on his plan of action. The void was far over his head and out of reach now.

“Trust me, master,” Obi-wan said, pulling away from Qui-gon’s hands defiantly. “I’ll make the right decision pertaining to my ‘status’ with Padme.” He had not meant for his words to sound disrespectful or sarcastic, but in his youth and determination, that’s how it sounded. Qui-gon’s eyes gained the withdrawn look of disappointment, and he shook his head with thankfully, a bit of amusement still etched in his bearded face.

“You are as I rash as I was once, though maybe not in the same way…I hope you’ll grow out of it, the council thinks that I never did.”

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“No. He will not be trained.” What? Obi-wan mentally demanded, alarmed and surprised. True enough, he had thought the boy would be too old for training, but Qui-gon had seemed so determined to get Anakin by that Obi-wan had fallen into step with believing Anakin would become a Jedi someday. A smile tugged at his lips until he noticed that Anakin looked absolutely crestfallen, as though he had brought failure to Qui-gon, his mother, and himself. Obi-wan bowed his head, feeling a great swell of pity for the boy and wishing there was more he could do.

“I will train him then. I take Anakin as my Padawan learner.” What? Obi-wan once again could not believe what he was hearing. Was he supposed to be pleased at this ideal, or jealous, or unprepared? Qui-gon could not have two Padawans, he knew that it did not cooincide with the code…that must man that…

“Obi-wan is ready…” Qui-gon insisted to Yoda and Windu as they voiced what Obi-wan had been thinking. Obi-wan knew that it was now his time to react, to make his master proud, and to prove that he was ready to become a Jedi knight and step forth from the name of Padawan.

“I am ready to face the trials.” He said convincingly, stepping out beside Qui-gon and exchanging a look with his master that he could not explain. Was Qui-gon as his boldness, or gratified? Perhaps this was not for Qui-gon after all…perhaps it was for Obi-wan, in admittance to himself that he knew he was ready…or maybe it was about neither of them, but about Anakin. Though Obi-wan was not a Jedi Master, he was as strong in the force as they were- although perhaps, in different manners…he acknowledged that there was something in Anakin that reeked of danger and foresight, something odd in his midichlorian count and his ability to feel out the future before it’s reaction. Should he now agree with the council and practically beg for Qui-gon’s disappointment and disproval in him, or stand up for Qui-gon’s suspicions about the boy even if it jepordized but he believed might be the true outcome of the boy’s training?

“Headstrong...and he has much to learn about the living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he will learn from me.” He truly thinks I am prepared. Obi-wan realized with a start that in truth, he had learned little from Qui-gon in the past year other than how to conduct oneself with other people, particularly politicians…and that lesson could have been taken from any honest Jedi’s example. But Qui-gon had proved the closest of friends, and the most father-like example Obi-wan had had in his life as he had been taken from his parents at a very young age. And headstrong- well, that description spoke for itself. The argument was playing out to Obi-wan’s favor, and it took a swift turn towards a road he thought would be dark in his future…he had thought he would have to part from Padme when she and Queen Amidala returned to Naboo, but now-

“Now is not the time for this...the Senate is voting for a new Supreme Chancellor. Queen Amidala is returning home, which will put pressure on the Federation, and could widen the confrontation. Go with the Queen to Naboo and discover the identity of the dark warrior. That is the clue we need to unravel this mystery of the Sith.”

The void within Obi-wan temporarily swelled shut with the callused thoughts that pulsed through his mind at Windu’s words and played upon his fate concerning Padme. If they were to accompany the Queen to Naboo, he would undoubtedly see her again, and the fleeting moment would all but rationalize Obi-wan’s new oath and standards he had applied to her while in the shadows of his mind. Now a thought-provoking reminder played upon Obi-wan’s mind as they left the council: could he tell Padme of his feelings? Moments before he had admitted she could never know, it would paralyze him to the point of further compromising his Jedi ways and proving to be more of a failure than he already held within himself. Now he could not bare the thought of not telling her how she was causing him to internally suffer for that one moment as stood so close to him and pulled his soul into the shade it had turned now- the shade that consumed the point of no return. She had altered his perspective and made him cross the line he had sworn he could never even look upon; she had to know what she had done to him, if for no other reason that to bring him back into the reality that the shadows of his void had barricaded from sight.

Qui-gon was now scolding him, but his harsh words little penetrated Obi-wan’s thoughts of Padme until he responded to Qui-gon by saying,

“It is not disrespect, Master, it is the truth.” Apparently, he had made the decision to stand with the council’s choice on Anakin and defy Qui-gon. He had already compromised so many truths he had held valuable within that day, and was now swearing to himself he would not lie again for the sake of another’s perspective. Qui-gon had to know how his apprentice felt, and Obi-wan would not bite back his tongue to reveal that he felt Anakin was unprepared for the life of training he had so far endured.

“The boy is dangerous…they all sense it, why can’t you?” Obi-wan further asked as the harsh wind bit at his cloak. They were on the landing platform outside of the Nubian ship that would take them back to Naboo as soon as the Queen and her maidens arrived; the platform was high in the scrapers of the city, and the wind seemed to have much more force at so great a level. Also, it was cold- not insufferably cold, but chilly to the point that Obi-wan could feel his cheeks going raw and his eyes were glazing over from damp resistance to the breeze that snapped in their cloaks.

“…that should be enough for you. Now get on board!” Qui-gon said, startling Obi-wan slightly. He had offended his master, maybe even angered him; Qui-gon was giving a direct order, no questions asked, no punishments proceeding. Obi-wan tensed with anger- this is what he got for expressing himself honestly…the feeling of failure and disproval. Hesitantly, he turned from Qui-gon with a shadowy glare and mounted the plank of the sleek, silver ship, hearing the delightful churning and whistling of Artoo at his heels. He marched down the hall, casting a greeting stare to a few of the pilots as he entered the helm room of the ship and took a seat over the star chart. The window of the bridge revealed that two hover-taxis had just arrived at the platform and were now unloading a massive pack of people, including The Queen, Captain Panaka, twenty or so troops, Padme and her fellow handmaidens, and last and possibly least- JarJar, who tottered on the edge of the taxi before stumbling onto the platform with the rest. Obi-wan discreetly rose in his seat and approached the window, watching the scene before him unfold as though he were governing from a higher body. Qui-gon and the Queen were exchanging words, JarJar shouting something in an overjoyed voice, and the Queen and her handmaidens boarding the ship and exiting Obi-wan’s span of view. He breathed in deep, willing himself to forget the exchange of words with Qui-gon and evaluate how he truly felt on the subject.

He had not meant disrespect; he was expressing himself, as any Jedi should do in a situation that he feels obligated to share his or her opinion. However, an apology was in order, for as he reviewed the past few days Obi-wan realized that he had been absent from his openness and meditation with Qui-gon…their relationship had been fading dramatically during Obi-wan’s internal tribulations, and the blame was to be placed on the padawan as a burdening load to carry…he had to relieve himself of the weight and seal the wound he had opened between Qui-gon and himself.

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She was approaching him, he realized with a blended pounding of excitement and dismay. Padme was wearing her orange, handmaiden garbs yet again and her chin was tucked downward, but she was nearing the Queen’s quarters with a certain purpose in her step that suggested she was likely coming to seek someone out.

“Padme,” he greeted coyly, stopping amidst his walk as she was only a few steps in front of him now. He knew that she had noticed him, but her eyes reflected that she either felt uncomfortable with the prospect of carrying on a conversation because of their last meeting, or that she had a duty she was carrying out and would not spare a moment for her pleasure. To Obi-wan’s meek pleasure, she stopped in her brisk walk and glanced up from under the orange hood hiding her hair, her eyes shifting to one of equal pleasure and greeting. “Pleased to be headed home?” Kenobi asked, knowing the answer but wanting to see the light in her eyes expand in joy…he had grown to love it when she was happy.

His persistency was rewarded, for her eyes briefly flickered with relief and exhalation of elation, and her lips parted in a thankful smile that better expressed all that she could have to say about her emotions. “I can hardly wait!” She admitted, sounding young and ecstatic. Obi-wan grinned in return, but his smile faulted quickly and he dropped his gaze…how could he find an appropriate moment to tell her that he was willing to risk his Jedi conduct to be beside her, as he had been beside her in that sustained moment she had kissed his face? Perhaps she did not even wish that of him; perhaps she was just expressing her gratitude and feeding her feminine ways in an awkward outlet. Wouldn’t he feel foolish pouring out his void to her to express what he had concluded, only to learn he had assumed too much and Padme wished nothing to do with him?

“Padme…” He began, trying to filter his emotions into her name so she might gain a clue to what he was about to say. Apparently, his attempt mildly worked, for her eyes flickered closed for a brief moment and she turned her head down.

“Not now, Jedi Kenobi.” She said formerly, her voice pleading. Obi-wan sensed a presence behind him- Qui-gon was approaching, he realizing with dismay, his head thundering with impatience. He would undoubtedly inquire to as why Obi-wan and Padme had been speaking alone in the halls of the ship, though it was actually none of his concern.

“Of course, milady.” Obi-wan responded, bowing and allowing Padme to continue on her way towards the Queen’s chambers. Obi-wan turned to see her go; he turned right into Qui-gon, who was surveying him with keen interest and perhaps a trace of suspicion. Please don’t start, he silently pleaded, seeing his master’s lips slowly part as though he were groping for words he could pour upon his padawan. He could handle the fact that he had acknowledged his feelings for Padme were not within the Jedi standards, and he was willing to hold to them despite his oaths- but he could not lie to Qui-gon, and he wouldn’t need to…his master and friend knew him far too well.

“Obi-wan,” Qui-gon began, and to Obi-wan’s relief his voice was informative and not reproachful. “We’re nearing Naboo, and need to figure a place to land safely- JarJar has recommended the Gungan swamp, so that he will have easy access to the Gungan city.” The Queen had made her plea to JarJar requesting his help- apparently; the Gungans were rumored to have a grand army and armory that would prove helpful in the droid war that just around the bend, and the people of Theed would need their alliance. “Go to the bridge with Captain Panaka and determine the safest route for landing.”

“Yes master.” A small while later, they had landed with only a minor concern of the droid control ship hovering in orbit- they had probably been spotted landing, and therefore they did not have time to linger in ways other than what was absolutely necessary. Obi-wan went ahead and saw JarJar to the edge of the swamp that would make his path to the city, and then returned to the ship to inform Qui-gon of their Gungan’s friend departure. However, his master’s thoughts were elsewhere as Obi-wan informed him, and even when the padawan persistently asked of the Queen’s plan to prod his master into speaking to him, Qui-gon was short. Qui-gon must have been sensing Obi-wan distance due to his new eruption of feelings for Padme- there was no other explanation for his lack of explanation to anything, as he normally told Obi-wan most everything and confided in him. Or were Qui-gon’s thoughts still circulating around the boy? Obi-wan sighed inwardly, wondering if he owed Qui-gon an apology for simply expressing himself…

“I'm...I'm sorry for my behavior, Master. It is not my place to disagree with you about the boy. I am grateful you think I am ready for the trials.” What walls had been built between them slowly crumbled as Obi-wan opened himself up to Qui-gon and said this. Qui-gon looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment, perhaps even with amusement, and then nodded once as though exhaling deep musings. Have I done this to us? Obi-wan thought with alarm after he reflected upon the past few conversations he had shared with Qui-gon, and how they had been stiff and callused as though they wanted to be abrupt and foul with each other.

“You have been a good apprentice. You are much wiser than I am, Obi-Wan. I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight.” Those words broke through Obi-wan’s walls, but he could say nothing to express his gratitude as Qui-gon turned and walked away thoughtfully. Obi-wan watched him go, feeling alone and lost as he might have as a youngling in the Jedi Temple: it was so large, like a cavernous world of knowledge and depth, and he had felt so diminutive and misplaced…he had not felt so void of companionship and understanding for the force in so long- was Padme and her haunting presence to blame? She had captured him, but had she also deprived him of his bond with his master? No, she would not be to blame for such a mishap- it would be him, his fault, his failure- for being so subject to weakness and becoming easily enveloped in the void consuming his being. He needed healing, and yet he knew that he must be broken to be set in the right path…his consciousness dwelled in the force for the time being, but he couldn’t help but hope that what would break him would not leave a scar to forever be exposed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Chapter 5

O blow ye evil winds  
into my body's fire  
my soul you'll never unravel. Norbert Capek

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Obi-wan felt as though his lungs would burst, for the pressure accumulating in his chest could be compared to being slowly suffocated and crushed by thousands of small rocks piled atop of him. He wondered amidst his pain if his ribcage would snap inward first, or if his heart would fail, or maybe his innards would burst and cause his throat to fill and be cut off from all extension of air. He could not explain why the insufferable ache was murdering him, for he was standing and walking as though all was well, although he was in a dark room filtered only by crimson lights. As he walked, his steps echoed through the room, and he had been continually walking with his hands outstretched with hopes of finding the walls that were encompassing him. Was the room what was suffocating him? Obi-wan spared a fleeting second to massage his left palm across his sternum, rasping deeply inward at the sharp pain that now was so unbearably strong it brought him to his knees. He attempted to feel out the force within him with hopes of some sort of calming relief or guidance, and to his sudden panic he felt a deep and empty chasm within him where he might have once sensed the powers of the force. He tried again, closing his eyes to overcome the pain and focus all his energy, but again there was an echo within him that suggested he had been emptied of his identity.

A shadow stirred in the corner of the room, unveiled only by the blood light that glinted on its deepened garbs. A voice emerged from the figure, cold and withering as though pooled with the hissing tones of a serpent and devoid of any form of compassion or elation.

“Will you loose him for her?” It demanded, dancing with the shadows in such a way that Obi-wan assumed it was approaching him. The robes swooshed in the silence, unaccompanied by footfall or breathing. With alarm, Obi-wan realized that he had not been breathing at all- not that it had been his choice, for as he opened his mouth to intake air he found that he lacked the ability to do so. He writhed in pain and his face contorted as he slid from his knees onto his side, loosing the will to ever want to feel again if only to be rid of the pain that consumed him now. The shadowy figure was now over him, nearly atop of him: in fact, by Obi-wan’s judgment it should have been standing right upon his chest, but there was no body to the figure and therefore no need to stand at all, for all that the shadowy cloak surrounded was a single face. Obi-wan couldn’t recall why he had acknowledged it as a face, for he could not place any human like features about it aside from a gaping mouth that spoke in dangerous tones.

“Who?” Obi-wan heard his voice asking, but he knew that it had not come from his mouth as he was still struggling for air and could not even make a noise without thrashing in pain. With some relief the young man realized that this must have meant he was not completely separated from the force, for it had been it’s presence within him that had cried out the pleading question. The face contorted, now resembling a man with long hair, a bridged nose, wise eyes, and a peppered beard…Obi-wan felt what strength was left within him emit a cry- Qui-gon…then, as quickly as the image had appeared, it morphed into the face of a young man that Obi-wan had never seen…curled hair that fell into his dark eyes, a mischievous and tempered smile, a scar across his right eye…no recognition came to Obi-wan, but his spirit cried out nonetheless.

And with that cry, he woke. He had been dozing, seated in the pilot’s seat aboard the Nubian spacecraft, but now he had stumbled from the seat and was on his knees with his hands barely holding him up. Sweat cascaded from his face and had drenched the front of his tunic, and his ears were wet from where unconscious tears had rolled from the corners of his eyes while his head had been titled back. His breathing was labored as though he was still unconvinced he could intake air…what the devil had happened to him? Jedi were not supposed to have nightmares, as their conscience was to be always dwelling in the force and therefore their minds were controlled by the calming and influential presence. Obi-wan sought out the force within him with panic, and was given the relief of feeling the warm power surge within him at the sudden focus of energy. Footsteps were approaching the bridge, and Obi-wan could not be seen as he was, especially if it was Qui-gon. Qui-gon. Had his dream meant something significant concerning Qui-gon’s fate? And who was the curly haired young man that had appeared a few years older than Obi-wan, with the rashness and boldness lined in his arrogant smile? Her. Who had the voice been referring to?…Padme, beyond a doubt, Padme. Was he now to be haunted for his choice to make sacrifices to be beside her, and if so, was his consciousness what was haunting him? He had not believed it possible for the force to do this to a man…but then again, he had never believed it possible for him to become vulnerable to emotions and attachments. He struggled to his feet as he wrapped his arms around the chair and attempted to pull himself up- but the footsteps had faded…had whoever been approaching turned the other way? Hopefully so, Obi-wan reasoned as he slid back down to the floor in exhaustion and submission. He leaned against the computer council, his knees propped up and his elbows folded limply over them. He bowed his head, still panting and attempting to cleanse his raging fear, and that was how Padme found him.

It was her that had been approaching, but she had paused outside of the bridge for a moment, indecisive of whether or not to enter. Now as the door hissed open, she could see Obi-wan towards the right of the bridge upon the floor, and she approached him boldly with no knowledge of his state. When he felt her coming, he swore inwardly but knew it was too late to hide his condition, so submitted and allowed his head to hang limply on his chest. She turned the corner of the hologram projector and started at seeing him, merely because she thought she was interrupting his meditation.

“I- I’m sorry. I’ll come ba…” She paused, now realizing that all was not quite right. She swiftly knelt beside him, seeing the shine upon his brow from sweat and the slickness of tears upon his cheeks, and placed a hand upon the top of his head. “Obi-wan, what’s happened?” She asked, shifting her knees to be even closer to him. Obi-wan said nothing, felt nothing, and did nothing, for the waking fear in his mind had overcome what he wished to say to her. She could not know of his struggle, but she had to know of his feelings…and yet he had no strength to tell her in this most perfect of opportunities, no will to try to hold her as his hands were still trembling at the bleak realism of the vision he had just had. Did she have to be so close to him? Obi-wan wanted to raise his head and look at her, but the mere feeling of being beside her forced him to squeeze his face closed to as not to cry from what he had just seen, as it involved her. With her presence, he was reliving the waking nightmare tenfold over, only now she was beside him helplessly.

“Obi-wan.” She repeated firmly, but with compassion and worry in her voice. Her hands slid over his propped up arm and found his face, which was warm and damp in her hands, and she lifted it up as he had done to her at the end of their outing in Coruscant. Obi-wan heard her sharp intake of breath at seeing his face; realizing he had been crying, realizing he had been out of breath, and not knowing why. With her palms still planted on his face, she remained still, waiting for him to become alive again. After labored moments of trying to find words to unveil his ordeal, Obi-wan’s eyes slid open…her hair was pulled away from her face, and she wore maroon traveling garbs trimmed with gold…her brow was creased as though she might soon cry for his sake, and her mouth was slightly open in a look of pure, beautiful, bewilderment.

“It was a dream.” He managed to say, feeling foolish and wanting to pull away from her hold to retreat into solitude. Padme nodded deeply, though her features were not unclouded still, and she began to use the back of her hand to wipe his face dry. As she did so, he leaned his head backward against the console, resting and trying to accumulate serenity. When her hand was done moving across his features, he reached for it and brought it down to his chest, holding it there and lacing his fingers in-between hers. She had to know how he felt- how could she not?

As though answering his internal question, Padme moved to sit beside him, her hand still in his. When she was close enough, Obi-wan leaned his head onto her shoulder with exhaustion. She was so beautiful, so pure, so wise, so bold…his feelings for her were beyond attachment, they were beyond attraction, and they were beyond what he knew how to place, for he had never imagined that being so close to a person would turn his entire perspective into a shapeless void. Padme laid her head atop of his and her free hand moved up towards his face yet again, resting on his neck affectionately.

“What are we going to do?” She murmured into his hair weakly, her voice nearly breaking…at the sound of her struggle, Obi-wan found the strength he had been searching for surge within him and rejuvenate his regular Jedi stature. Her words told him all he desired to know, though they concealed all the meaning. Between their strong syllables he could read much more that she had not spoken- You cannot be with me. Her words had cried, pleading and confused. You are a Jedi, it is not in your code to love- you can have no emotion, you cannot have this, no one can know, what will we do? He lifted his head from beneath hers, openly staring down at her through clear and strong eyes that appeared as though they had not been suffering moments ago at all. She stared back at him, her deep chocolate eyes questioning and lost, but still admiring his recovery with certain confusion. Obi-wan stood and reached his hands down to her to pull her to her feet beside him.

“It doesn’t matter yet.” He replied, drawing her in close once she was standing. She was soft and small in his arms, and he held her gently as though scared of breaking her. How had this happened? How had they come to this point? Much like her words had concealed all she desired to say, his in turn had hidden his meaning as well from all except for her…It doesn’t matter, I will sacrifice it for you- to be beside you, like this. We shall find a way to hide it, we shall conquer it…

Moments later, Padme slowly withdrew from Obi-wan’s arms, though she kept her hands in his tightly. The comlink buzzed at Obi-wan’s hip, but he didn’t reach for it immediately…he could not distract his eyes from her face, which was still lined with worry but overcome with a much stronger sense of devotion.

“Obi-wan.” Qui-gon’s voice demanded. Obi-wan did not blink, he wanted to draw her in close again and forget their surroundings, forget that it was forbidden, forget the nightmare that had been etched into his memory. “Obi-wan?” Qui-gon repeated, and Obi-wan felt Qui-gon seeking out his presence like a visitor beating at the door of an old friend. Obi-wan acknowledge Qui-gon by use of the force and hesitantly pulled his hand from Padme’s, bringing the comlink to his face slowly and holding it there for a moment before speaking…it was as though speaking to another would forever barricade the moment they had built.

“I’m here.” He said weakly, and it was a long moment before Qui-gon replied.

“What was that about?” Qui-gon asked. Obi-wan waited another moment before replying, as he was watching very closely as a weak but determined smile was coming to Padme’s face.

“Nothing, master, I was dozing.” Obi-wan replied honestly.

“JarJar is coming back from the Gungan city.”

“I’ll be right out.” Obi-wan replied, ending their communication and reattaching the comlink to his hip. When he returned his eyes to Padme, he found a new look within her eyes that disturbed him- she was hesitant, hurting, confused…he prayed he had not done something to aid in this turmoil. “What is it?” He softly asked, using the back of his hand to wipe a stray strand of hair out of her face. At the feel of his hand on her face, her eyes briefly closed and then reopened with more confidence, but no more decision…

“I need to tell you something.” She said, and Obi-wan realized that she spoke of the mysterious shroud he had given up on understanding. He watched her thoughtfully, a new fear waking in him that demanded to know if the mysterious element would come between them. As she opened her mouth to speak, Qui-gon’s voice came through once more with double the force and demand of a master and friend.

“Obi-wan…now.”

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“Dare-sa nobody dare. All gone. Some kinda fight, I tink.” JarJar explained, looking confused and worried for his people. Obi-wan folded his arms over his chest thoughtfully, having been struggling with focusing on the matter at hand rather than the beautiful woman he had been holding moments before.

“Do you think they have been taken to camps?” He asked, raising a brow as he glanced between Captain Panaka, Qui-gon, and JarJar. Qui-gon thoughtfully returned his padawan’s gaze, considering the prospect but not saying anything before Captain Panaka could respond.

“More likely they were wiped out.” Panaka said, but JarJar was not lenient on the thought.

“No...mesa no tink so. Gungan hiden. When in trouble, go to sacred place. Mackineeks no find them dare. Mesa sho you. Mesa sho you.”

The sacred place JarJar spoke of turned out to be sacred temple ruins deep within the firmest and greenest point of the Gungan swamp in Naboo. The ruins consisted of a grand temple topped with large, aged gray, stone heads that had been carved so long ago that their features were not very accurate. The trees that enveloped them stretched high and thin with rich red bark and mossy flesh, and the entire temple grounds were possessed with an early morning fog that was rising between the trees and drawing the golden atmosphere out of the forest encircling them. Upon the group’s arrival, a mass of Gungan refugees parted from within the clearing and revealed themselves from behind trees and stones to expose Boss Nass and several other council members emerging from atop of one of the large stone heads, their eyes somewhat suspicious. The ground the group stood upon to express their plea was hard-packed dirt, and it was obvious in that fashion because of the many Gungans that had fled and packed its dirt with their clamoring feet. Queen Amidala, brave and dedicated as always, immediately stepped forth from the group, and Captain Panaka and the two Jedi moved to stand behind her to reinforce her plea. Obi-wan spared a glance for Padme, and with alarm he saw that her head was not bowed in a handmaiden’s fashion, but was upright with bold and strong eyes surveying the situation thoughtfully. Obi-wan struggled to not look at her again- what was the determination he had seen in her eyes that she had never shown before while in the presence of her Queen?

“I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo...I come before you in peace.” Queen Amidala spoke in her soft, monotone manner, beginning their introductions for negotiations. Obi-wan felt the guards’ and pilots’ nervousness creep into his senses, and he withheld a smile…the Gungans could be intimidating, but they were anything but hostile- however, it might not appear so to Nubians who had always disliked Gungans and made a point of avoiding contact with them. He shifted his weight comfortable with relaxation, taking it all in and noticing that Anakin’s large eyes were surveying the situation with incredible fascination.

“We wish to form an alliance...” Amidala began but was interrupted. Obi-wan heart thundered as Padme stepped forth, overcoming the Queen boldly as though she had nothing to fear by doing so.

“Your honor.” Obi-wan sensed her confidence- she could not be making a mistake by doing this. He watched in confusion and wonder as Amidala backed down, tucking down her head as a handmaiden might have done and folding her hands in front of her meekly. What is going on? Without a doubt, Obi-wan realized that this was the key to what Padme had been trying to tell him, and it was all unfolding…

“I am Queen Amidala. This is my decoy...my protection...my loyal bodyguard.” How had he known what she would say before it came from her mouth? Perhaps it was how she held herself, or the way that she spoke…the walls within her, and the respect that held them strong. He had known she was the true queen before she now spoke it, and perhaps that was just one of the reasons he had not allowed her to tell him of her secret before- to her the pain of doing so, yes, but also because perhaps he had sensed it in her and had had no reason to know. He exchanged a glance with Qui-gon, which revealed that his master must have known of Padme’s true self previous to this meeting. Anakin seemed purely stunned, JarJar alarmed, but everyone else took it in stride- Boss Nass even seemed appreciative and respectful towards the fact that the true Queen had seen the need for protection, and was now coming before him honestly.

“...I am sorry for my deception, but under the circumstances it has become necessary to protect myself. Although we do not always agree, Your Honor, our two great societies have always lived in peace...until now. The Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. You are in hiding, my people are in camps. If we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever...I ask you to help us...no, I beg you to help us.” She was dropping gently to her knees, looking up at Boss Nass as though he were her superior, and her only hope. The handmaidens and Captain Panaka gasped, unnerved to see their Queen in such an inferior position, and then within moments the group of them fell to their knees behind her. Obi-wan and Qui-gon submitted, kneeling down respectfully not only because the Queen was doing so, but also because they knew it was their only chance to convince the Gungans to cooperate forces. She was so brave, so wise beyond her years- how had he not openly realized that she must have been the Queen? He must have suspected it but been to preoccupied with everything else overwhelming about her to realize there was no other solution to her secrets. A pride and yet a dawning fate fell upon Obi-wan’s shoulders- if he had felt it impossible to be beside her before, it would be even more difficult now that he knew she was the Queen, and all he could give her was his allegiance and protection.

“We are your humble servants…our fate is in your hands.” Padme finished, awaiting Boss Nass’ reply with hope glinting in her features. Obi-wan watched the back of her head lower slightly, submitting to the lead Gungan in the same manner she had shown in her disguise as a handmaiden- he willed her to look at him and sensed her desire to do so, but knew that was all he could have at this dire moment. It worked- Boss Nass laughed, amused and overjoyed at her gesture, and swore the Gungans to allegiance with the Naboo- there would be peace between them, if no where else. Obi-wan’s face broke into an amused, closed-lip grin and he watched with a warming pleasure as Padme’s face split into a smile both relieved and overjoyed at the pact so quickly formed that would likely be the saving of her people.

Hours later, the two Jedi were exchanging words with the Gungan generals and were making arrangements for the armies to blockade the droid army from further invasion of Naboo. Padme...Queen Amidala…came and went between places, making arrangements and building relationships with the Gungans that she was relying upon for defense. Obi-wan watched her from the corner of his eye, feeling her out and realizing with a rising joy that the walls that had once been built around her- the walls that had guarded her secret and been the only border keeping him from entirely knowing her essence- were crumbling and fallen. With brief acknowledgement that he was watching her, Padme glanced at him from across the green temple, smiling somewhat and shifting her gaze like a bashful schoolgirl. Obi-wan smirked, continuing to watch her for a second before remembering the matter at hand was far more important than his fancies…at least for the time being.

Qui-gon approached Obi-wan, so the padawan straightened up and cleansed his mind of Padme’s image and turned to his master with a knowledgeable eye and a keen smile. Qui-gon was not so easily fooled, but he said nothing as he merely surveyed his apprentice with brief doubt and worry and then said with a nod,

“Come. The generals are arriving, and Captain Panaka is returning.” He planted a firm hand on Obi-wan’s shoulder, steering him towards Padme, who was standing beside a blue speeder with a few Gungan generals scattered around her noticeably. She glanced up from the maps and notes she was computing and greeted them with a welcoming smile, then turned her head back town towards the papers. Obi-wan and Qui-gon situated themselves at the other side of the speeder, picking up some of the Gungan defense plans and viewing them as four speeders hissed forward and unloaded. Panaka climbed out and approached with a tired but approving smile, nodding respectfully at all three of them and wiping a bit of sweat from his brow with his gloved hand.

“What is the situation?” She asked formerly, and Panaka gave his report concerning the camps in Theed that had been holding citizens against their will. Obi-wan could not help but let his eyes drift towards Padme as she listened, watching her features cloud with thoughts and intense worry at hearing the condition of her city. Knowing he was on dangerous terrain, he turned his gaze to Qui-gon and Panaka as they spoke and refused to look at her again so that his mind could find momentarily peace away from her image.

“What do you think, Master Jedi?” She asked a few moments later, turning her eyes towards Qui-gon and Obi-wan with gratitude and stress in her eyes. Obi-wan’s eyes remained strained to Qui-gon, who replied thoughtfully with thoughts of the Viceroy in mind. She was a Queen- she had duties, responsibilities, obligations- she could not be with him, she could not even think of him without conviction…and the same was of his feelings for her, only possibly more forbidden because of his oath. Powers of the force, why was he dwelling on these thoughts now? Surely he could find a more appropriate moment!

“And there's an even bigger danger. If the Viceroy escapes, Your Highness, he will return with another droid army.” Obi-wan informed her, emphasizing the term as he looked at her hard and allowed his eyebrows to raise unnoticeably as he expressed her title with point and amusement. Padme’s eyes flickered slightly at the formality but covered up her alarm by replying just as sternly,

“That is why we must not fail to get to the Viceroy. Everything depends on it.” She held her gaze on Obi-wan for a long several seconds that remained both still and silent until Obi-wan felt himself nodding in agreement with Qui-gon, and he then noticed that his master seemed impressed by her determination and wisdom. After the decision had been made for departure, Padme shot Obi-wan a brief glance that could only have meant what Obi-wan had been hoping for- they would be able to speak, alone. She wandered off after speaking with one of the pilots shortly, then moved into the green trees of the Gungan swamp that would hide them well in their discussion. Obi-wan attempted to appear nonchalant for several moments before excusing himself from Captain Panaka’s presence; he made a point to maneuver out of Qui-gon’s view quickly and keep his senses in tune with his master’s so as to know if Qui-gon suspected something was astir. After what seemed like a lifetime, he was able to pull himself through the trees and walk slightly into the forest to greet Padme, who was sitting on a fallen log comfortably until he arrived. The forest air around them was warm and dense with the temple fog while the beating Nubian sun sliced between the leaves and lit the golden ground on which she was waiting, illuminating her scarlet garbs to make her appear ethereal. Upon seeing him, she leapt up and took quick steps towards him, her face looking pained and sorrowful as she reached for him.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you.” She said pointedly as he came to her, as though blaming him for not allowing her to say something beforehand. Quickly pulling her in to a gentle embrace, Obi-wan smiled into her hair with pain she could not see written in his eyes.

“I know…and I knew…But it doesn’t matter,” Obi-wan lied, knowing that her position was a mountain in the path they had chosen to follow together. Not only could he not love her as a woman, but also in her position as a Queen there would be more than just a few severe punishments for his decision. Padme tightened her grip around him for a second before pulling back to look up at him, and Obi-wan’s heart warmed to see that her stubborn expression had faithfully fallen back into her eyes and mouth.

“Obi-wan…we can’t,” She said firmly, though Obi-wan mused that she wasn’t hesitant to remain in his arms as she said so.

“I know.”

“You cannot risk your life as a Jedi, and I cannot risk mine as a Queen. We can’t do this, you know what the dangers are!” She sighed, shaking her head. Obi-wan sighed, looking upward as though pleading with the unseen his force for some solution to the turmoil they now had entered as one. After a moment of frustrated thinking, he returned his eyes to her, a weak and unsure smirk coming to his lips if only to encourage her to continue in her strength.

“Now isn’t the time.” He drew back hesitantly, keeping her hands in his and raising them swiftly to his lips to plant an affectionate kiss on them. Padme turned her eyes away, unwilling to look him in the eye from either conviction or pure will not to stare at him with her developed feelings stirring within her. “We’ll figure something out when Naboo is safe again.” He said in insecurity, wanting nothing more than to have no issue to solve but to simply be able to hold her as had been doing fleeting seconds ago. With one final withdrawn gaze, they returned into the grassy temple clearing to prepare to launch the Queen’s…Padme’s…plan to renew Theed and free it of the Viceroy’s grasp.

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The sun was hot, but in the desperation of the present moment Obi-wan could concentrate little on the warm sweat running from his hair. The central plaza of Theed was literally swarming with the scrawny droids that were nonchalantly marching with their guns through the streets of the beautiful city, and Obi-wan could tell that Padme was becoming more and more angered at seeing them festering through Naboo as though it was theirs to overrun. They crept through the alleys of the city and though they traveled in obvious numbers, they maintained great stealth and remained hidden well. Padme had taken up the lead in their determined march, followed closely by the two Jedi, Anakin, and Artoo- who was amazingly silent though his little wheels pulled him across the stone at a slower rate than the rest. Closely behind them walked the guards, pilots, and troops, who were dutifully slinking about to maintain their cover as though they despised the idea of having to conceal themselves within their own walls. Padme stopped abruptly and leaned closely to the wall in her scarlet garments, flashing a small red laser to cue Captain Panaka into movement before pressing on again. Panaka replied with a small blue flash, and Obi-wan felt his hand drift towards his lightsabre at the anticipation of the moment at hand. Qui-gon knelt in front of Anakin and lectured him to remain in a safe spot within the hanger, and Obi-wan smirked to hear that Anakin sounded less than sworn to such an act.

The firing began quickly upon the single explosion sent by Panaka’s crew, but not so quickly as to overwhelm Obi-wan’ quick senses. They rushed into the courtyard at hearing the droids begin to fire mercilessly, and Padme took to head towards the hanger door that would lead her troops to the ships and then eventually towards the palace halls. Alarms began to ring through the cavernous hanger and Obi-wan swiftly spun his lightsabre out to deflect the bolts aimed at Padme as she fired, which earned him a swift glance of gratitude before they both continued in the attack. With each of the Jedi on either side of her, Padme kept her gun lifted and firing at all times while Qui-gon and Obi-wan spun and circled their sabers to deflect everything shot towards them, though for any less trained of a Jedi it would have been difficult due to the smoke snaking through the hanger. Between the troops, the Jedi, and Padme, enough of the battle droids were made quick disposal of so that Padme could signal her pilots into action before raising her gun to fire once again.

“Get to your ships!” She ordered strongly, over the roar of the alarm and the ringing zooms of the shots still being aimed in their direction. The ships began to levitate from the hanger one by one, making the scene even more chaotic to add to the confusion and ruckus. When given a moment free of firing, Padme looked to her gathered troops with firm determination and a little sweat upon her brow, saying to Panaka,

“My guess is the Viceroy is in the throne room.” No alternatives or disagreements were offered and the group turned to leave the hanger, and despite Anakin’s requests to come along Qui-gon ordered that he remain in the cockpit of one of the Naboo star-fighters he was hiding within. An alarm woke within Obi-wan’s senses that he doubtlessly knew would be screaming within Qui-gon’s as well…something firm and unspoken, something he knew was both dangerous and dark…a visual flashed through his mind of the dark stranger that Qui-gon had faced on Tatooine. The stranger they had believed to be a Sith.

As they were just upon the door leading through the hanger, it opened to reveal what Obi-wan had mentally dreaded upon sensing the dark presence of the Sith. He was before them now, his red and black face evil and grim as he surveyed them as though they were both pathetic and small in comparison to his great presence. Padme froze amidst all her troops, her face disbelieving and fearful at the presence of the black-cloaked figure that surveyed them with fiery eyes and a cynical mouth. Qui-gon and Obi-wan pushed to the front of the group, and Obi-wan felt his face curling into a determined snarl at seeing the creature that had nearly defeated his master upon their last meeting. He would like nothing more than to drive his lightsabre through that villain’s middle to satisfy the idea that the Sith scum had nearly beaten Qui-gon…not to mention he had been undoubtedly attempting to assassinate the Queen- who could’ve been Padme at the time.

“We’ll handle this.” Qui-gon said, his voice sounding calm but dangerous as they surveyed the Sith that had remained still to this moment.

“We’ll take the long way.” Padme said tensely, her eyes locking with Obi-wan’s as she walked briskly by him and her large group of troops turned towards the side door they had passed upon entering. Her gaze said only one thing, and Obi-wan knew it was intended for both Qui-gon and him: be safe. The Sith peeled off his black outer garment and discarded it, and the two Jedi removed their cloaks fashionably and slid them carelessly to the floor. They simultaneously ignited their lightsabres, and Obi-wan’s mind lingered upon Padme for a brief second, whom he could hear was having some difficulty reaching the palace hall. He wished her safety beyond that of his own even as he saw the dark Sith ignite his lightsabre, which burned red on either end with the same villainous glow that lit the stranger’s eyes with quarrel and bloodlust. He could hear the firing of wheel droids behind him but pushed all thoughts involving the world around him from his mind: he must only focus on the task at hand, which would require all of his mind and will. With a sudden burst of energy, the duel that would forever change Obi-wan’s life was spun into existence like a poetic dance of movement and reaction. The Sith was on the defensive end as Obi-wan flipped overtop of him and began to spin his sabre in coordination with Qui-gon’s opposite movements, and yet the stranger seemed confident and even amused at their tactics for attack as he easily withheld their assault. The three dueling figures began to move into the center of the hanger swiftly, and the Sith demonstrated his unnecessary skill of the dark side by needlessly tossing a fallen droid across the hanger. Obi-wan ground his teeth and took on the Sith for a split second before Qui-gon moved to take the evil being in from a separate angle, which began a fierce attempt to disarm the Sith of his double-ended sabre.

Across the hanger, Anakin was struggling to fire at the wheel droids that were threatening Padme and her troops, as the small group led by the Queen was moving towards a separate entrance into the palace hallway but couldn’t get through. Padme flattened herself against the wall and attempted to fire at the droids unsuccessfully: they were shielded against her simple combat weapon. She breathed in shakily, evaluating her choices for action and glancing around the hanger to see what options they had at bay. As her eyes scanned for any sign of help, they landed upon the swift beams of the lightsabres that were clashing and radiating across the hanger, and fear gripped her that she knew would remain until the Sith was dead and Obi-wan and Qui-gon returned to her side. Hope came in the form of an unseen star-fighter pilot that used his ship’s weapons to destroy the wheel droids and allow Padme and her troops safe passage, which finally forced Padme to turn her eyes away from the speedy duel that was moving across the hanger with climbing speed. With a final hope for the Jedi’s safety, she turned into the hallway with her troops, pushing the gentle face of Obi-wan from her mind so as to be able to focus on finding the Viceroy.

Obi-wan felt as though he and Qui-gon were greatly outnumbered; yet it was two against one in their favor. The Sith Lord before them spun gracefully and used his legs and arms as though they were extensions of his weapons, turning about and continually flipping and rotating in mid-air positions that caught them off guard. He bore his teeth in a flagrant and arrogant grin of malice, knowing that he had the upper hand in his Sith skills and playing with the Jedi’s patience by pushing them away with his foot in a manner that only held them at bay. He was toying with them. Obi-wan snarled, his face curled into a sheet of pure anger and struggle as the red beam of his opponent barely missed his neck and side continuously. The three turned in a manner of skilled swordsmanship from the hanger to the power generator area attached to the building, which made for a much more difficult battleground. Obi-wan could feel not only anger, but hatred rising within him- hatred that would drive him to fighting blindly, which he could not do if he valued their lives. He had to believe he was putting an end to the Sith for the good of all, not his own satisfaction. The three moved onto the narrow bridge of the Theed Power Generator, the Sith moving like an agile cat along the slim walkway as though taunting them to try harder. He then leapt onto bridge above them, and Obi-wan and his master followed in stead, coming up on either side of him with their blades never ceasing to attack and defend. The three different shades of energy danced and collided with sparks that could hardly settle before the next round of collision erupted between the blades. The continuous battle for defeat roared on the narrow catwalk surrounding the vast power pit, and the blinding light of the power generator worked to the Sith Lord’s advantage as Obi-wan’s eyes could not focus for a split second, which allowed the enemy to kick Obi-wan from the catwalk. Obi-wan groped vainly in the air as he fell several levels and landed on the thin metal of a deeper bridge with his side curled under him and his momentum carrying him over the side. He held onto the edge lightly, vulgarities running through his mind as he pulled himself up and fought to remain composed so as to be at his master’s side all the faster. The Dark Lord was backing away from the catwalk above into a small doorway, and Qui-gon followed with his lightsabre turning steadily in attack. Obi-wan leapt onto their level and sprinting for his master, panic written on his face as he prayed Qui-gon could hold the Sith at bay long enough for help to arrive. His master and the Sith were moving through what appeared to be the power generator’s electric beam, which was cast into the appearance of a long hallway filled with a series of deadly rays that continuously shot on and off in a pulsing pattern that would shoot down the corridor every few moments. Obi-wan’s desperate run quickened as he could see the pink, electric walls sliding into a force field just in front of him, which would cut him off from Qui-gon and the Sith. Fortunately, a wall slid between the Dark Lord and Qui-gon, and Obi-wan managed to make it as close as five chamber walls before being forced to slide to a stop before colliding with the electric beams. Panting, he impatiently drew his sabre in and watched the Sith pace back and forth in front of Qui-gon as though surveying a prey before a kill. Qui-gon gently slid to his knees and bowed his head, which was just like his master- always calm, always convenient, always relying on the force within him to resolve the situation.

The moment of rest was short, for the electric beams opened and as soon as the hissing of the chamber erupted between Qui-gon and the Dark Lord, the beams of the green and red sabres were emitted once again and they continued in their ferocious duel. Obi-wan began to run furiously, his sabre turning over in his palm as he attempted to make it to his master before the electric cycle closed him in once more. The Sith and Qui-gon had moved into the end of the corridor referred to as the melting pit, mostly due to the large hole that most of the chamber consisted of that reached down into the depths of the planet beyond the human eye. The electron ray gates began to slide closed, and although Obi-wan was running as he had never run before, he was still trapped behind the final wall and slid to a stop just before hurtling into the crimson force, his face contorted in shock and frustration. Qui-gon needed him! He panted with panic written in his gaze as he watched his master fight with more intensity in his face than ever before; Obi-wan hoped it would be enough. The young padawan tried to foresee the Sith’s pattern, but there was none- his fighting style was unlike anything Obi-wan had ever seen…he moved like an animal of the air, and yet still had the prowl of a creature of land- he moved as there was nothing around him but the opponent at the will of his blade. Obi-wan brought in a quick intake of breath at seeing his master begin to fail against the Sith’s slick manner of defense and deception: The Dark Lord caught Qui-gon off guard by using the grip of the sabre to slam upward against the Jedi’s jaw and knock him out of balance for a moment, and then wield the fatal blow that Obi-wan had dreaded seeing since the start of the duel. The dark villain brought his sabre around swiftly and ran the end of his red beam straight through Qui-gon’s middle, so that the end of the sabre could be seen protruding from Qui-gon’s back. A look of shock and deadening pain crossed Qui-gon’s features in a sheet of terror, and to coincide with his master’s fate Obi-wan felt his face contort as he cried out with more malice than any Jedi should ever feel within his being. The Sith quickly abandoned Qui-gon to fall to his side limply with a harsh slam against the cold floor of the chamber, and then turned his attention to Obi-wan with a taunting gaze and prowling smile about his bared teeth.

Obi-wan felt as though the breath had been pressed from his chest, for he was breathing deeply and shakily and could not take his eyes from the fallen form of his master- he could sense life in him- there was still hope…but for the wound that had been delivered, the Sith would pay with his life- Obi-wan swore it. His face twisted in rage and vengeance and he swallowed deeply, grinding his teeth as he did so and turning his eyes to the Sith Lord with a new aura about him. If at any point vengeance could be justified, Obi-wan felt it was now, and he felt that he would sacrifice all of his training to make the Sith suffer for what he had inflicted upon Qui-gon…the Sith would die, Obi-wan would have no peace until he saw it.

The electron gate was opening, but Obi-wan scarcely remembered acknowledging it as he practically flew from the chamber and brought his sabre upon the Sith’s with more speed and accuracy than he had thought possible for someone of his limited experience. The enemy was just as relentless upon the young Jedi, who was holding his own in the speedy duel waging life against death and the realities of each. Obi-wan managed to swipe one side of the Sith’s sabre, causing only one beam to be emitted, but it wasn’t enough- the Sith had to die. Their dance of fate continued, and in his growing weary Obi-wan left an opening that could have been his ruin. The Sith kicked him and Obi-wan slipped into the cavernous pit behind him, only managing to catch himself by a small nozzle protruding from the side of the massive hole. He cursed and grunted, trying to pull himself up but finding a growing weakness in his limbs, even at the grinning face of the Sith hovering over him tauntingly. Obi-wan watched in dismay as his sabre was pushed down the shaft, clamoring and echoing all the way from Obi-wan’s sight…where was his hope, now?

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“Now, Viceroy, we will discuss a new treaty.” She had said with strength and determination in her features as she relentlessly pointed her power pistol towards the Viceroy. Her troops had then moved in and taken the Trade members captive, allowing them little comfort as they began to escort them down the palace corridor triumphantly. Padme wished that she could rejoice in their apparent victory, for they had just received the report that the droid control and battleship had been destroyed by the small handful of surviving pilots, which had included a brave- though perhaps witless- Anakin Skywalker. However, she could will no smile to come to her face, for she felt a great creeping horror within her being as not knowing whether or not Qui-gon and Obi-wan had defeated the dark stranger they had collided with the hanger hall. Amidst her thinking, she felt a door being opened in her mind, and she nearly staggered at the feeling of a presence within her being, no matter how familiar it was.

“Padme,” the voice was faint, but she could recognize it- Qui-gon…Qui-gon? She rubbed her fingers against her temple, thinking she must be hallucinating. Captain Panaka stopped amidst their march and planted his arm on her shoulder with worry.

“Your Highness?”

“Padme,” Qui-gon repeated, stronger this time, and yet it was painfully obvious all was not well with their Jedi friend. He was weak, uncertain, trembling…failing… Padme’s eyes glazed over and she planted her palm over her mouth in disbelief. He was dying. “He needs you.” Qui-gon’s voice, though increasingly small, was persistent. Padme’s heart twisted in her chest as she felt the brief connection with Qui-gon shatter, for though his words had been brief, she knew what they had meant. Obi-wan.

“Captain Panaka, continue to escort our ‘guests’…you two,” She firmly addressed two troops. “Come with me.” Giving no further explanation, Padme began to run back towards the hanger, her mind hurtling as her eyes fought brimming tears, hoping to what powers she knew that Obi-wan and Qui-gon’s fates were not the same.

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Obi-wan’s eyes settled on the crumbled body of his master even as the burning sparks that the Sith were scattering down atop of him threatened his grip on the nozzle he gripped for life. Qui-gon’s life was weak and failing- could his master sense his failure now? Did he know that Obi-wan had failed him? Obi-wan’s gaze drifted to Qui-gon’s lightsabre, and a perilous idea came to his mind that could be his only alternative. He summoned his remaining strength, which he found only at the thought of Padme being safe, and gazed up into the black and red face of the Sith. The Dark Lord’s features shifted for the first time, and Obi-wan realized in the split second before he acted that the Sith was afraid. That final acknowledgement spurred Obi-wan, and he mustered enough spirit to draw the sabre through the air towards him as he leapt from the nozzle over top of the Sith. In less than a second, the beam was emitted and lashed across the Sith’s middle- and for a lingering moment, the deadened eyes of the dark spirit stared at him before the Sith toppled in two parts into the deep chamber. Obi-wan watched in satisfaction for a fleeting moment before he discarded Qui-gon’s lightsabre and ran to his fallen comrade’s side with desperation in his step.

He slid onto his knees beside Qui-gon and gently scooped his master into his lap, holding his closest friend’s head with a lump forming in his throat that felt as though it were constricting his breathing. He shakily rocked back and forth, trying to harness his teaming emotions, and listened as Qui-gon spoke in weak and illiterate tones.

“It’s…too late…”

“No!” Obi-wan cried in a voice that was not his own, holding Qui-gon’s face and staring into it as though willing it to hold on and not fade into the point of no return. Qui-gon could not leave him- Obi-wan wasn’t ready! Perhaps he had once thought so, but not now- not with Anakin needing Qui-gon as well, and Padme needing his guidance…

“Obi-Wan, promise...promise me you'll train the boy...” A dying request.

“Yes, master,” Obi-wan weakly said, feeling as though a great part of him was being pulled into a separate death with Qui-gon.

“He is the chosen one...he will...bring balance...train him!” With his final words focused on the boy with a foreseen destiny, the force inside of Qui-gon was purged, and the spirit of the wise Jedi left his human corpse. Obi-wan caught his friend’s face in his palm as it went limp and stared at it briefly before realizing that Qui-gon had parted from their human understanding of life. The young Jedi’s face crumpled as he fought silent tears and he brought himself to rest his forehead on the now cold face of his master, cradling Qui-gon as he silently began to weep for the not only his loss, but the great loss of the Jedi Order. If he had run faster…fought harder…trained longer…no. That was not was Qui-gon had left him with; his master would not want him dwelling on such thoughts. Qui-gon would have said that his destiny had been laid before him, and that this was his closing point in the path etched in time.

Gentle footsteps met Obi-wan’s ears as warm tears flowed onto Qui-gon’s face and robes, and into the long gray hair surrounding his dead features. Obi-wan lacked the strength to feel out whom it was, not caring that it could have been droids to shoot him and end the misery swelling within him. He wanted nothing more than to continue holding the body of his closest friend and willing it back to life, though he knew it was both impossible and unjust…Qui-gon was in death now, and after what Obi-wan was enduring of human pain- death might have been the better alternative. Only at feeling the soft and familiar palm of a woman crease the back of his neck did he have the ability to lift his face from Qui-gon’s, for though he had been weeping silently he felt he had been screaming for solitude. Through a blurred vision he surveyed Padme, her own face lined with silent tears for their fallen comrade and also for the turmoil she could see in Obi-wan’s face. Obi-wan said nothing, but turned his face from her to hide all he been drained of…perhaps if he had not loved her, he would have been even closer to Qui-gon before now…

“Obi-wan.” Padme gently insisted, trying to pull him in close. Obi-wan submitted, feeling no strength left in his being to fight, and turned from Qui-gon into her arms, his body still shaking at his great loss. Over his shoulder, Padme stared at the still and peaceful body of Qui-gon, her mouth slightly open in unspoken words…nothing she could say would deprive Obi-wan of the void that had been opened in his life in brief moments that would result in a lifetime of wondering ‘what it could have been like’. Obi-wan lacked the ability to pull from her arms, but it was not out of love he remained leaning against her, it was out of weakness…the duel had left him heavy and weak, and only now were the burns from the sparks forming on his arms and the incision on his side showing. He had stopped crying and was now merely trying to find a way to pull away and stand up without causing a commotion- he did not need comfort at that time, he needed peace that he could only find alone. He pulled from her arms with his face contorting in pain and willed himself to stand, though only by the strength Qui-gon had left dwelling within him. Padme stood beside him, now seeing the blood at his side and the rising welts and cuts on his arms with alarm coming to her features as she groped for words to say. As she turned to demand her accompanying troops to get help, Obi-wan’s eyes slipped back into his head and he writhed onto his side limply beside Qui-gon with the last visions of his master’s dead face before him to dwell on in his unconscious state.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Chapter 6

You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time.- Abraham Lincoln

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Obi-wan had slept in unsettling fear, but he woke with a certain air of peace humming in the unfamiliar room around him. He attempted to make sense of why all his limbs felt unattached and distant to his body, but his mind gave up after a futile attempt to relive the past day. Where was he now? He sat up, and his stomach burned with lack of food and the uncertainty of exactly what was happening. He was in the palace of Naboo, that much was certain, but the chambers were unfamiliar and undoubtedly a guest accommodation…his tunic had been removed and his side bandaged and healed, while the burns on his arms were all but small red spots that were increasingly fading into a painful memory. With seeing his wounds, a flood of rushing thoughts collaborated to overwhelm him and remind him of why his jaw ached and his eyes were dry with a burning lack of tears, as they had all been spilt.

Qui-gon, his master, closest friend, father, brother, mentor, counselor, confidant…dead by the hands of an unnamed Sith that was slaughtered at Obi-wan’s mercy. Obi-wan’s face twisted as he planted his feet on the cold surface of the stone floor; his legs felt as though they had either been hibernating for years, or were overused and breaking down because of their weakness. How long had he been out? He pulled his tunic on quickly and then turned to retrieve his cloak from its place on the wall, but as he pulled at the collar of the brown cloth Qui-gon’s lightsabre slipped from the sleeve onto the floor and rolled around on its side as though reminding Obi-wan of its keeper’s fate. Obi-wan stared at it, transfixed, and then slowly scooped it up and fastened it to his side, trusting that Qui-gon would want things to be this way if he had known in advance of his demise.

“Obi-wan- looking well, you are.” The grizzly tone of Yoda greeted from the doorframe just as Obi-wan had pulled his arms through the sleeves of his cloak. He turned, his eyes lighting up at a friendly face, and bowed deeply in reverence. Yoda being on Naboo served as a sign that the capture of the Viceroy had gone well and that the Jedi had come to retrieve the Neimoidians.

“I feel well,” Obi-wan offered, though it was not entirely valid to say so…everything ached about him, and every step he planted beneath him felt as though it would be his last before falling back to his knees in pure exhaustion. “Master, what has happened? I’m afraid I don’t really understand why I’ve been sleeping.” He could remember the cold face of Qui-gon in his hands, the resounding sound of his master’s last breath, the tremors that racked his body mercilessly, and the soft touch of Padme comforting him in his despair…he had remembered standing, and had assumed that he would be making sure that everything had been handled with the Viceroy- but his mind drew a blank, though he seemed to recall Padme’s panicked face surveying him in his final moments of awareness. He must have fallen unconscious, he realized, but for how long? Yoda inhaled and wobbled around the room for a moment, his cane clicking along the stone floor as he walked and supporting his hunched green body securely.

“Drawn from you, your life was…you were exhausted, injured, and suffering from losing Qui-gon, I fear. Your body could not sustain the three, and unconscious you fell. Queen Amidala had you and Qui-gon’s bodies brought back to the palace, and notified of the Viceroy’s capture, the Jedi Council was. That was yesterday, and it is now morning…The Queen and Chancellor are about to put Nute Gunray and Rune Haako aboard a speeder that will take them to the senate.” He paused in his speech to grunt and maneuver a bit more, raising his large alien eyes to Obi-wan as he did so. “Qui-gon’s interment, tonight we shall hold. Back to the force, his body must be given, and that is how he would want it, I feel.”

Obi-wan nodded, pained to discuss such present plans about a man that had been alive no less than a day ago. So Qui-gon would be cremated, then…such a visual was hard to imagine, but Obi-wan would soon have to endure it in a much more realistic view. The pain and understanding of the endurance of death must have reached Obi-wan’s senses in his sleep, for although he still felt fairly shocked at now being forever parted from his master’s company, his soul was not ruptured in pain as it had been at the moment of Qui-gon’s bereavement. Perhaps he was still within a blockade of shock- perhaps he was numb.

“I shall go assist the Queen in seeing off the Viceroy,” Obi-wan suggested, moving towards the door slowly, with his head bent in wavering thoughts of his loss.

“Your mourning, Qui-gon would not want.” Yoda said, causing Obi-wan to pause in the door and focus on what was now pulsing through him. Was he mourning? No, for he could not even make enough sense of the situation to come to such an end…Qui-gon still lived in his eyes, though the vividness of the past day’s final moments with his master was beginning to haunt Obi-wan’s senses.

“I am not mourning, master, but I am pained.” It was the truth- he felt as though his core had been split into divisions: one half that had died with Qui-gon, and the second half that knew he was meant to press on and endure the struggles of fatality.

“Suffering is a route of darkness. Very cautious, you must be in your pain. Cautious to not let it turn inward.” Yoda advised, and the depth of his voice reflected that he could turn Obi-wan’s emotions outward to survey the path of his thoughts if he truly wished it. Obi-wan recognized Yoda’s great abilities and knew it was futile to attempt to hide anything pertaining to the hollow suffering that was running through his mind and soul in a union. The Jedi master before him was right: acting upon his pain would bring him further anger and fear, which could only be harnessed and wielded in darkness…Obi-wan pondered if Yoda knew the great hatred Obi-wan had felt upon ending the Sith’s life, and the pleasure that had warmed within him at seeing both halves of the evil creature tumble into the power pit and be absorbed into permanent darkness. But as far as allowing such pain to turn inward, Obi-wan feared it might have already begun leaking into his system and corrupting his vision to feel the force rationally.

“Of course, Master,” Obi-wan offered, and stepped outside of the chamber into the palace hallway, which was lit by the golden Nubian sun that burned through large windows lining the hall. Yoda followed him, wobbling and tottering all the way in his usual grunting and labored-breathing manner but never complaining once about the walk. After several moments of silence, Obi-wan was reminded of Qui-gon’s dying request, and it burned alive within him and reminded him of the actions he must take to fulfill what was asked by his friend.

“Master Yoda, may we speak of Anakin’s training?” He asked, glancing down at his superior with a slight smile returning to his lips- a fragrant ghost of his sarcastic and cynical self he had left aboard the Nubian Cruiser before the dream had consumed his thoughts and pressed his conscience. Yoda paused in mid-step and glanced at Obi-wan with his eyes widened in interrogation.

“Wish to train the boy, do you?”

“Qui-gon asked it of me, and his faith in Anakin has been passed on to me in his death.”

“Discuss this later, we shall.” Yoda plainly ordered, and there was no mistake in his voice that he disapproved of the idea. Obi-wan smirked as one brow rose quizzically, but he remained silent in respects for Master Yoda- and also because he could see the form of the Queen exiting the palace with her guards and handmaidens in tow. Obi-wan wondered if it was Padme dressed in the exotic garments of wine and ebony, or if she was still choosing to charade even though the threat of the assassin was diminished.

“Obi-wan!” A small, youthful voice cried out, and Obi-wan’s genuine smile was ignited as he turned to see Anakin sprinting down the hall towards him. Obi-wan watched him run, with his sandy strands of hair tipping back and forth across his bow and his boyish features alive as he sprinted with all he had towards the Jedi.

“Hello, Anak-“ Obi-wan began and was cut off by the boy grasping him around the waist in a tight hug. Yoda watched in admonishment, his eyes never leaving Obi-wan’s face, and then turned to continue in his walk with a final hum of thought. Obi-wan glanced down at Anakin in surprise- they had not been that close before, but Qui-gon’s passing had undoubtedly ruptured a nerve in the boy that had driven him to this end. Obi-wan rested an unnerved hand upon Anakin’s corn silk hair, his eyes saddened at the memory of the boy following Qui-gon around like a long lost son…which would have made him a brother to Obi-wan, as the young Jedi had once been the same way to his Master. Anakin glanced up at Obi-wan was glazed eyes, his features confused and afraid at what had happened and was yet to finish taking place. “It will be alright, Anakin.” Obi-wan offered weakly, pulling out of the embrace awkwardly but keeping a firm hand on the young boy’s shoulder to lead him outside and into the central hanger, where all the excitement appeared to be happening. He watched the boy from the corner of his eye and began to decently relay what Yoda had just lectured him about, but in words that Anakin would more easily interpret and apply. “Qui-gon would not have wanted us to suffer for him…but it’s hard for me to not be upset by his loss, too.”

“Maybe if I hadn’t taken the cruiser, I could have-“

“No, Anakin.” Obi-wan said firmly, turning the boy towards him and kneeling down as Qui-gon used to do. He glanced up into the boy’s frightened eyes, seeing spirit within them, and said with no trace of a smile on his face, “That time is passed, there was nothing you could have done to change what the force ordained to happen, understand? I have been thinking the same way- that maybe there was something I could have done to keep it from happening, but if there had been- it would have been done.”

Anakin slowly nodded, sniffling slightly and watching as Obi-wan stood back up, feeling years older and suddenly very drained. Perhaps in the slightest aspect, he was being a hypocrite- for he was still suffering greatly for Qui-gon’s loss…but a slow dawning of understanding had begun to reach him through his words with Master Yoda, and that was that he was possibly meant to be Anakin’s master all along. Master. Could he live up to such a term? He felt far too young for such a position.

“Come on…have you seen Padme yet today?” He asked, knowing that such a thought might cheer the boy as it did him. Anakin shook his head and began walking, anxious to see his friend, and Obi-wan chose not to remind him that she was in the Queen’s garments now and had to go by that title while in front of the Chancellor. They walked into the central hanger, which was warmed by the summer sun and was occupied with guards escorting the disgruntled Neimoidians towards a federal cruiser. Obi-wan smiled at seeing it was Padme who donned the strange style of the Queen, and he might not have been mistaken at seeing a brief grin flash across her face as they approached her. Anakin’s fallen face was now beaming at seeing her, but he attempted to withhold his smile seeing that he knew the situation was serious and not a time for pleasure…Obi-wan looked at him with respect and admiration: such a task was not easy for a young boy, he knew that from experience.

“Hello, Jedi Kenobi.” Padme greeted him with a nod, her hands folded in front of her and her chin upraised as Obi-wan had always preferred it. He considered her white face, as well as the red division down her lower lip and the circular red beauty marks on either cheek, and decided that although she was breathtaking now- she was far more beautiful without the elaborate apparel, as she was solely Padme then…no formalities, no regulations, just Padme. “Hello, Anakin.” She in turn greeted the young boy, who grinned up at her with what Obi-wan could have sworn was a flirtatious smile.

“You Highness.” Obi-wan bowed, squeezing Anakin’s neck so that he would remember to do the same. As they leaned back up, Captain Panaka approached with several guards that led the Neimoidians towards the cruiser that would return them to the capital. Padme surveyed them with an amused but glowering eye, remaining in her Amidala stature as she said flatly,

“Now, Viceroy, you are going to have to go back to the Senate and explain all this.”

“I think you can kiss your Trade franchise goodbye.” Captain Panaka added, and then turned the Viceroy and his assistant towards the walkway of the cruiser. Obi-wan smiled slightly, seeing the new Chancellor Palpatine and several republic guards approaching the Queen. Numerous Jedi followed behind them, and Obi-wan turned to greet them and pay his respects- however, he was surprised, for they were the ones who paid respects to him.

“Well done, Obi-wan.” Master Windu offered as he passed, and Obi-wan bowed in gratitude but disbelief. What had he done well? Killed the Sith, yes, but only because hatred and vengeance had driven him to do so. Yoda walked with them, as he had already greeting them and taken his place at their side, and he now looked at Obi-wan with saddened but perhaps grateful eyes…what was the small but powerful Jedi getting at with his off-handed comments and confusing stares?

“Thank you, Master.” Obi-wan replied quietly. The Chancellor and Queen were approaching the palace together, discussing his election success and the reaction from the Senate concerning the Trade Federation’s removal, and Obi-wan could not help but notice that she seemed to slide gracefully when she walked in her gown. Upon reentering the palace, Yoda summoned Obi-wan back to his side and said,

“Discuss the boy, we shall. Come to my chambers this evening, and an answer, you shall have.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Obi-wan offered, but he silently had made a decision upon speaking with Anakin earlier…he would train the boy with or without the permission of the council, even if it meant he were to be expelled for his insubordination and noncompliance…he would do it for Qui-gon, for Anakin, and for himself. He was on the precipice over his expulsion either way, what with his love for Padme being firmly founded- what harm could it possibly do it further rally the council against him? Forces, he was sounding just like Qui-gon…eccentric…distant…insubordinate…defiant…but perhaps Qui-gon had been the wisest of all the masters, even in his unorthodox manners.

“Jedi Kenobi, may I speak with you for a moment?” It was Padme standing just behind him, her strange lavender hairnet nearly falling in her face as she surveyed him with a turned head and questioning eyes. Obi-wan nodded deeply and turned to Anakin, who looked slightly bitter at not being invited.

“Absolutely, milady. Anakin, you are free to do what you wish, for now. I’ll find you later.”

“How?” Anakin asked, looking mischievous as though he might purposely place him out of Obi-wan’s path. Obi-wan grinned in an equally ornery expression, eyebrows raised as he said,

“Oh, trust me- I’ll find you.” Anakin seemed to take his word for it and scampered off, probably to find JarJar and cause some sort of commotion outside of the palace. Obi-wan watched him with a deep sigh of concern for the boy’s emotions- he was exuberant, flagrant with his feelings…it would be hard to teach him to harness everything teaming through him, especially since Obi-wan felt as though he had lost a grip his own feelings and would be an absolutely hypocrite telling Anakin to grasp his. He slowly returned his gaze to Padme, whose eyes were focused on the small figure of Anakin as well before she returned Obi-wan’s gaze.

“Perhaps we should walk?” She formerly suggested, gesturing towards the gardens in her private courtyard.

“As you wish, milady.”

“Good. Wait here, I’ll return in more fitting clothes.” She said promptly, causing Obi-wan to start and then chuckle. She needed to change for a walk? That must have been a good sign- perhaps she felt uncomfortable in her Queen’s attire beside him, or sensed that it was odd for him to stare at her white face and think of her as the same, free young woman he had been considering her as since they had become acquainted. She turned and walked straight-backed down the palace hall, her handmaidens and personal guards at her heels…Obi-wan wondered if they would be following in their walk as well, or if Padme would demand some peace about the matter and give her servants a day to themselves. With a discontented sigh, Obi-wan folded his arms into his long brown sleeves and began to walk up and down the corridor with no particular destination in mind; his thoughts were once again being conquered by the resounding memory of the past day’s nightmare for the time being.

How could it be that life was so temporary, so fragile? One moment he and Qui-gon were bickering and learning from each other, and the next, Obi-wan found himself deprived of his closest friend for what would undoubtedly be an eternity. What had inspired the dream that had haunted Obi-wan the morning before his master’s demise? If Obi-wan had never come of love Padme, would he still have Qui-gon at his side? Doubtful. But what else could the strange vision have entailed, and who was the second face Obi-wan had been shown before he had woken?

“Let’s go.” Padme’s returned voice demanded, and Obi-wan turned to see with much relief that her face had been washed clean and her beautiful ringlets allowed to fall freely about her shoulders. She wore a white, simple gown underneath an embroidered, azure covered with golden trim on the sleeves, and Obi-wan could see the bareness of her feet sticking out from beneath the lower hem of the gown. He smiled, unable to take his eyes away from her until he noticed that her eyes were dejected and avoiding under his admiring gaze. Obi-wan cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering what he could have possibly done to deserve her discomfort, and began to walk beside her towards the garden, his head bowed onto his chest.

They walked in silence, each meditating on their own thoughts, until the greenery of the Nubian court surrounded them in thick vines and branches. Alien plants blooming in florescent shades hung over trestles carved out of rich, red stone marked by the crest of Naboo, but Obi-wan could pay little attention to the feminine touches of natural beauty at either of his sides. His thoughts were teeming as he sensed Padme’s anxiety, her desire for internal contentment…what was bothering her now?

“You seemed to have recovered well.” She commented needlessly as they walked, her voice still held in formality. Obi-wan nodded.

“What’s this really about, milady?” He asked frankly. Padme turned to look at him, her beautiful face revealing a bit of hesitance as her eyes slowly shifted away from him. Obi-wan turned to approach the waist-height brick wall that separated them from the blockade of mossy trees that served as a wall around the garden, hoisting himself atop of it comfortably. Padme remained standing below him, so as to feel less above her he leaned his weight comfortably onto his elbows and rested them limply across his knees, surveying her with a keen but curious eye.

“You said we would discuss things when the matter of my people was settled.”

Why was she still speaking like a Queen to him? They were alone now, and he was certainly no dignitary to be addressed in such a formal tone.

“Alright, let’s discuss it then.” Obi-wan shrugged, and Padme glared at him for a second before taking a large, demanding step towards him so that she could stare up at him more closely.

“When are you going to take me seriously?” She asked with aggravation lit in her tones. Obi-wan could not help but fight a threatening smirk that played at his lips at the thought…how could he not take her seriously, when a mere angered glance was enough to make him want forgiveness?

“I do.”

“Not, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop it!”

“What?” Obi-wan was now chuckling at their pointless argument, which was working against his favor as it was somewhat proving her point.

“Just…stop!” Padme sighed, but a smile was threatening to come to her face. Obi-wan’s laugh slowly faded and he hung his head to gain his composure for a moment before glancing back up into her strong, oak eyes that had first won his attention. They looked pained, restricted, afraid. “I can’t do this.” She said weakly, shaking her head slowly as her eyes still remained caged against his, hiding what she really intended by her simple words.

“You don’t have to.” Obi-wan said slowly, and reached his hand out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “I never expected you to.” She couldn’t love him- her life, her career, her future- depended on the fact that she needed to submit to that governing ideal. In a far worst way, he could not love her either, but knew that he had entered the point of no return and had no intentions of attempting to wash away what had been renewed in him by loving her. What Qui-gon’s death had not drained him of remained alive solely because of the handmaiden that had drawn him in over the course of weeks traveling to and fro between the Coruscant and Naboo, and to sacrifice what he had grown to feel for her would be murdering any sense of contentment left in his being. And yet his act to still love her was not selfish…he did not continue to do so merely because he thought he could not do without- her merely acknowledged that if he truly were in love, there would be no question of whether or not he could just burry the emotions he had come to except for her sake.

“You don’t understand.” Padme shook her head with a heavy sigh, looking past him as though searching for some answer in the greenery behind him.

“Don’t I?” Obi-wan asked with his character smirk rising. He slid from the wall and pressed past her, beginning to pace through the gardens that were helping to capture his straying thoughts. “I think I do, Padme. I’ve sacrificed my entire commitment to the Jedi order by the mere act of having feelings for you, let alone acting upon them. I can’t ask you to make that same sacrifice if it’s against your will, but now that it is done on my part,” he turned to her, his eyes pained but still taking in her beauty even so. “I don’t expect I can go back.”

Padme had been watching him silently, her lips closed tightly and her forehead drawn to a thoughtful crest of penetrating thoughts. Now she approached him quickly, lifting up the bottom of her dress from her feet as she did so. “Why are you doing this to me?” She demanded as though he could possibly validate such a question and respond with an answer that would gratify her longing for an understanding. Instead, he shrugged and raised a single brow, as he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing anyways. He hadn’t been sure for quite some time now. Padme drew in a deep breath and walked closer to him still, moving to hold him and be held- but Obi-wan saw the movement in her arms and stepped back, drawing up his hands to stop her from coming any closer. He wanted to draw her in and accept what she was struggling to offer, but he had to do this for her, so that she could understand if she could truly not be with him. If so, her feelings could not possibly run as deep as Obi-wan’s, and his love would be in vain.

“Padme,” he said, lowering his head the peer into her eyes. “If you can’t, then don’t.” He glanced upward at the sun that was peering through the leafy roof overhead, and then said, “I’m due for a meeting with Master Yoda.” He took his hands from her arms and cupped her chin in his palms, knowing with pain that if her decision were not in his favor this would be the last moment he could share with her his true affections. He kissed her forehead lightly and simply and drew away, his heart shredding at the broken stare of the girl before him, then he turned and approached the entrance to the palace with a certain weight now adding to his shoulders. Part of him prayed she would come after him in that moment and correct everything he had been dreading; part of him knew she would not come, despite her feelings. The latter part was the correct, for Obi-wan walked alone through the corridors of the palace all the way to Master Yoda’s guest accommodations. He stopped outside of the doorway, breathing in deeply and attempting to banish the idea of Padme from his mind…he could not go before Yoda in this state. What remained alive in him was slowly dying, crumpling; fading- he had to hold to fulfilling his Master’s final wishes to keep the capability to continue. He stepped within the doorway.

Master Yoda was alone, which Obi-wan had expected…though the older Jedi would discuss the thought of Anakin’s training with the council, Obi-wan had known that Yoda wished to tell him of their decision in private, so as to further council his emotions on Qui-gon’s death. Obi-wan bowed in greeting and knelt in the center of the room, which the sun lighted dimly in fading rays of the hour. Yoda nodded and began to pace, using his cane to support his somewhat brisk walk and grunting all the way.

“Well, Master? Will Anakin be my Padawan?” What a strange idea…Obi-wan had been a Padawan a day past, and now he was practically pleading for his own.

“Confer on you, the level of Jedi Knight the Council does. But agree on you taking this boy as your Padawan learner, I do not.” Knight? Obi-wan had figured that such a title would be necessary for taking a Padawan, but he had not entirely computed the idea of becoming a full-fledged Jedi Knight. More importantly, Yoda was being very abrupt and blunt in his expression of Anakin’s training- would the Council deny Qui-gon’s last request?

“Qui-gon believed in him.” Obi-wan remarked.

“The Chosen One the boy may be; nevertheless, grave danger I fear in his training.” Obi-wan sensed it as well; it was in his Jedi skills to be able to foresee such things. But how sure could they be? Didn’t it all depend on the manner of Anakin’s dedication, his mind, and his will? The danger was not placed; therefore they could not be sure in which form of risk it dwelt. Obi-wan’s determination outweighed the resounding alarm of senses that were warning him of Anakin’s blurry future, and he allowed the idea of Anakin being a threat to entire leave his mind for the time being.

“Master Yoda, I gave Qui-Gon my word. I will train Anakin. Without the approval of the Council if I must.” With his admittance, a certain relief filtered his chest- at least now the Council would know that he was willing to go at great lengths to achieve what was denied to him.

“Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you. Need that, you do not. Agree with you, the council does. Your apprentice, young Skywalker will be.” Yes, Obi-wan had inherited Qui-gon’s defiance, but look what it had won him…his Master’s final desire would be submitted to- Anakin would be trained. Obi-wan struggled against a smirk and bowed his head with thanks, not knowing where to begin. As though Yoda sensed his mind reeling, the small green being turned to Obi-wan and said,

“First, we must honor Qui-gon, then return to us with Coruscant, the boy shall. In the Jedi temple, the first stages of his training will commence.”

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Obi-wan walked through the central plaza of Theed with his hood drawn over his head and his brown cloak pulled tight around him. It was a dry night, but a cool one at that, and the stars over the city seemed dim to respect the passing of Qui-gon. Anakin walked solemnly beside Obi-wan, his head bowed and his hands folded in front of him, and at the other side of him JarJar slinked with a certain air of depression. The steps to the funeral temple were lined with Jedi, Nubian citizens, acquaintances, and Senate members that had come to honor the great Jedi’s passing, but Obi-wan could see a clearing in the small crowd designated for the few of them. Hearing footsteps approaching, Obi-wan glanced over his shoulder- Padme, with several of her handmaidens, approached in her Queenly attire once again.

“Jedi Kenobi, Anakin.” She greeted with a grim smile that reflected her pain. Anakin moved to walk beside her, but Obi-wan turned his face back towards the temple to veil his features beneath the hood of his cloak. However, there was no escaping her.

“Congratulations on your promotion to Jedi Knight.” Padme offered as they walked, and this drew Anakin’s gaze back towards Obi-wan.

“You’re not a Padawan anymore?” The question was needless- how could he be a Padawan if he no longer had a master? Obi-wan shook his head with a bleak smirk, looking down at Anakin with pity lined in his features…the boy was suffering, lost, worried about his future. Undoubtedly he had been wondering if he had forsaken his mother for a life as a Jedi he would not be allowed to have- such a thought would alarm anyone who had made such sacrifices. Like Obi-wan, sacrificing his life as a Jedi for Padme when she had not decided if she could embody her true emotions.

The four climbed the stairs quietly and took their places amongst the crowd, Anakin and Padme on either side of Obi-wan. Why had she chosen to stand beside him? She could have stood on the other side of Anakin, but no, she seemed to want to be near him as though her presence would offer encouragement…she could not understand him that as her sleeve brushed his arm, he was pained all the more severely in the sustained moment. A single, bass drum was hammered to indicate the beginning of the memorial, and several guards clothed entirely in black garbs emerged with Qui-gon’s still body held upon their shoulders. Obi-wan flinched, yesterday’s moments recapping in his mind as he still saw the red Sith blade emerging from Qui-gon’s stomach with a certainty, and the slack and shocked face of Qui-gon falling to the floor in a resounding thump. The new Jedi Knight glanced away for a brief second as the guards lay Qui-gon’s body on the funeral table centered in the pillared temple, positioning the deadened limbs of the Jedi against his body. They soaked his tunic in oils, and as they continued with the process Mace Windu stepped forth, his arms folded across his chest and his head slightly bowed in reverence. Obi-wan bowed his head also, fighting not to dwell on the finality of the ceremony that seemed to be singing the fact that Qui-gon was gone for an eternity to follow.

“Qui-gon Jinn, Master, apprentice, and friend.

There is no emotion; there is peace.  
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.  
There is no passion; there is serenity.  
There is no chaos; there is harmony.  
There is no death; there is the Force”

Obi-wan glanced up, now focusing his vision on the body of his master that was being encased by gorging flames. There is no death; there is the Force. The living force. Qui-gon had taught him to focus on the moment at hand, rather than contemplating the future- thus teaching was the example of the living force versus the unifying force…the living force was what Obi-wan needed to now dwell on, rather than contemplating a life-time without his closest friend.

He heart felt as though it were being rung inside his chest as he felt a soft, familiar hand slide into his and remain concealed by Obi-wan’s long, brown sleeve. Padme. He glanced at her silently, surveying her somewhat wet eyes and her downcast face, and felt a certain peace rise within him. The living force- the moment, what was at hand rather than beyond reach. She moved her head slightly so as to meet his gaze, her brow creased and her red painted lips pursed. Obi-wan squeezed her hand once and released it, crossing his arms over her chest and knowing she would understand his small gesture.

“What will happen to me now?” Anakin’s voice embodied his fear, his hidden-panic, and the fact that his heart was enduring much of the same pain that Obi-wan was trudging through.

“The council has granted me permission to train you,” Obi-wan offered, seeing a light flicker behind his young friend’s deepened eyes: hope, what both of them now needed as they were on their own in a world they never had to brave before. Obi-wan felt young, so young- too young to be a Master to the young boy. “You will become a Jedi, I promise.” His words were sincere; he would see Anakin through the end, if it meant his own end. With a final acknowledgement to the nearly gone body of his closest friend, Obi-wan turned and excused himself from the funeral, having much to dwell on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Chapter 7

“Wake up, Anakin.”

“It’s too early. Go away.”

“No it’s not- just think of it as being very, very late at night.”

Anakin rolled over in the guest bed he had been accommodated with in the palace of Theed and glanced out the window Obi-wan had opened during their conversation. The sky overhead was tinseled with a lighter shade of blue, but the sun was still nowhere to be seen and the immobile stars shone radiantly above the city lights. ‘Very, very late at night’ referred to the fact that it was still beyond an hour’s reach of dawn- but thus began a Jedi’s day, Obi-wan mused with a smirk towards his tousled hair apprentice. Apprentice. It felt odd to know that he was now beyond that title and addressing Anakin in such a way- it seemed as though Qui-gon had just been rousing him at ungodly hours and prodding him to move faster towards the Jedi temple to begin his training…now those days were past, and Obi-wan had a new responsibility to live up to.

“People sleep at night.” Anakin moaned with a pout, rubbing his palms across his eyes.

“But we are Jedi.”

“Oh, right.” The tone of Anakin’s voice made Obi-wan chuckle- it was as though he had forgotten the whole reason that they were now in such a relationship. Obi-wan began to pace the length of the room with his dark cloak pulled tight around his shoulders, watching Anakin struggle to pull on his cream garments and boots with the sluggish capability of a grumpy little boy. A week had passed since Qui-gon’s cremation, and little exciting had happened since then- mostly just politics and order, which somewhat included the Jedi council’s agreement to stay on Naboo to ensure tranquility and also to see out the peace treaty with the Gungans and the Nubians. Obi-wan had allowed Anakin a bit of space since that time and permitted the boy to grow into the idea of an apprentice; he gave him the obligation of checking in with Obi-wan several times a day and setting a side an hour of silence in evening. Such a routine would begin to break him into a Padawan’s life, but only just barely…there were much harder training sessions to follow, this was merely an introduction to the easier side of what he would have to endure. Obi-wan had seen Padme only on a professional schedule, as the Jedi were constantly at her side in her proceedings…but he had thought of her far more frequently and could only hope that she had spared such thoughts for him. Being with her and not being allowed to touch her, speak to her, or look at her for longer than a brief moment was far worse than the times where she was absent from his side…he would rather not have to endure such torture at seeing her beauty and yet not being able to hold it.

“The Jedi code, if you will, Anakin.” Obi-wan said with a smirk as he surveyed the boy stumbling into his trousers blindly…this ‘master’ business had its advantages, for sure- for instance- finally not being the one to be caught off guard and put to the moment was quite a pleasurable relief. Anakin puffed the sandy locks from his forehead and grumbled a bit before hesitantly beginning what Obi-wan had made him begin to recite on a daily basis.

“There is no emotion; there is peace.” Obi-wan nodded, encouraging the youth to continue.  
“There is no ig….ig…norance,” Anakin stiffled a yawn as he finished dressing, now standing before Obi-wan lazilly and with his head still somewhat drooping onto his chest. “There is wisdom.”

“Knowledge.” Obi-wan corrected with a smile.

“Same thing,” Anakin said pointedly.

“No, they aren’t.”

“How?”

“Well…because knowledge is simply having some sort of information and understanding, and wisdom is rather the application of it. Keep going, I’m hungry.”  
“What’s for breakfast? There is no passion; there is serenity.”

“I haven’t decided. We haven’t exactly a lot of options, as you’re already making us late for your orientation and we can’t go far.”

“Why am I being oriented…or…whatever, so early? We have all day. There is no chaos; there is….erm…happiness?”

“Nice try, Anakin. Harmony.”

“Right. There is no death; there is the Force.” Anakin finished successfully and tossed his arms up in pride, cheering a bit. “Let’s eat!” How did he suddenly have so much energy? It was positively draining! Obi-wan followed the youth as he scittered towards the door with a near skip in his step and demanded of his padawan,

“Define the Force.”

“Sure. It’s what makes up the universe, and it dwells inside of Obi-wan, who’s sluggish now?” Anakin laughed, his fists planted on his hips as he successfully reached the elevator first. Obi-wan rolled his eyes and maintained his cool step, determined not to start a game between them when today was such an important day in their relationship…Anakin’s orientation into Jedi training. Not to mention, Obi-wan orientation into the full donning of a Jedi Knight- he smirked and thought offhandedly, Finally, rid of this blasted braid. The thought seemed so juvenile he could not help but smile, despite the resounding pinch that not left his heart in the past week…a pinch provided by Qui-gon’s death but fueled by Padme’s absence.

“You seem kinda nervous.” Anakin pointed out as the clear, comfortable elevator slid silently downward. Obi-wan glanced down at him- was he? Well, certainly, it wasn’t every day one forever left apprenticeship and was renowned as a Knight…the responsibilities, the obligations…he was starting a new life now, not to mention one that contained a forbidden emotion. “Relax and breathe.” Anakin offered. “It’s what I always do before a pod race.”

Obi-wan grinned, feeling foolish. “Now who’s the Padawan here?” Anakin was right- he needed to calm down and get a grip on himself…what was there to be concerned about?…

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“Anakin, by beginning a life as an apprentice to Obi-wan Kenobi, you swear by standards that we are not lenient upon. A Jedi follows the strict prohibitions and regulations of the Jedi Code- an ancient passing beyond our time that summarizes what our lives are spent in dedication towards. By placing these responsibilities upon you, we are entrusting you with a future that is to be solely dedicated to good and the well-being of all others, for your goal now is to not only be selfless, but to uphold and represent the Jedi as a body and to therefore belong to a group of sworn warriors. We are to connect with the Force and live in it unlike all others, and therefore we must also embody its power. You will follow Jedi Kenobi in life and strive for his image in death- he is to be your closest mentor, counselor, and teacher…you are to suggest correction in his ways but always submit to his advice, as long as it coincides with the code. Do you understand all I have said and swear by the Code that it shall be your guide in life and your memory in your passing into the Force?”

Come on, Anakin, repeat it how I told you, Obi-wan silently pleaded, though his eyes were closed in mediation and his head bowed away from Anakin, who was kneeling beside him silently. He heard his Padawan inhale deeply and shift on his knees.

“By the Code and In the Force, I swear it.” Good! Good job, Anakin! Obi-wan opened his eyes and raised his head, glancing at Mace Windu, who had stood overtop of them with a newly fashioned lightsabre in his palm. Anakin was struggling not to beam, Obi-wan could sense it and feel the pride in his young Padawan’s spirit…Easy, easy, he silently prompted, knowing that if he could sense arrogance in the young boy’s being than the council most certainly would…and they would disapprove of it far more than he.

“A life of trials, you will lead as a Jedi. Be subject to them, you must not.” Yoda advised from his seat, followed by the nods of the remainder of the council. Windu ever-so-slowly lowered the lightsabre into Anakin’s grasp, nodding at Obi-wan with silent advice to train him with his weapon well. Obi-wan had already taken his oaths and somewhat humiliatingly had his braid removed- he had not expected such a trivial thing to be made into such a ceremonious ordeal in front of the council, and he felt a bit sheepish with all the eyes watching him have it eliminated.

“A Padawan, you now are…live like one, you must.”

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“Yippee!” Anakin cheered as they entered the hallway outside of Yoda’s chambers, where the council was still remaining to discuss their return to Coruscant. The light of the fresh, morning sun made the walls appear a vibrant orange and the floors a fiery red…it would undoubtedly be a beautiful day for the parade celebrating peace between the Gungans and the Nubians, which was scheduled for late in the afternoon. Obi-wan smiled at his young friend’s joy and ran a self-conscious hand over his head behind his ear- ah yes, much better. Anakin would have much to look forward to…in just a small while, they had an appointment to have an implant placed for the Padawan braid…a small, painless, and trivial matter- but a good excuse to feel sheepish, for sure.

“Anakin!” Obi-wan heart twisted in his chest as he heard her soft and joyous voice greet their younger friend enthusiastically. He and Anakin both turned to see her with two handmaidens in tow approaching from down the hall, her rich azure skirts sloshing around her feet as she hurriedly walked towards them. “I was told the good news of your orientation and couldn’t stay away.” She admitted, bending over and hugging him tightly in congratulations. As she held him, she glanced up at Obi-wan, who smirked and nodded in greeting courteously. If things had to remain formal, he would submit to that- but he would also at least spare her a smile that informed her that inwardly, she was not an upright politician to him, but a carefree, spunky young lady.

“Yeah, I already got my lightsabre and everything.” Anakin nodded, pulling back and showing her the black and silver weapon in his hands. Obi-wan knelt and took the sabre from him, fastening it at his belt for him before standing back up.

“Just always remember, Anakin, your lightsabre is your life.” He advised- his first guidance as a Master to an apprentice.

“Hopefully not,” Padme laughed, shaking her ringlets that spilt over the strapless azure dress trimmed in silky, silver threads. “It’s a pretty sad idea to live only for a weapon.”

“Rather by it, milady.” Obi-wan chuckled, correcting her. For a split second, their simultaneously laughing eyes locked and became perfectly aligned- Obi-wan felt his heart in his throat, daring to become exposed as he could not bring himself to look away from her in the perfect reminder of a moment of what they had lacked in the passed week. She could not turn her eyes aside either, but she did purse her lips thoughtfully to express she was trying hard to think past him, and past their connection. Anakin looked between them, his eyebrows raised and lips a bit sourly pruned.

“Well.” He said loudly, and Obi-wan’s eyes regretfully turned to his Padawan at the interruption. “I’m going to go show JarJar my sabre.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Obi-wan grinned, glancing back at Padme briefly. “You are going to be given the wardrobe of a Padawan. Until the parade, Your Highness.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and began to stalk down the corridor, his shoulders slumping and his boots dragging across the carpet as though with a certainty of doom. Padme watched him with affection for a moment and then returned her gaze to Obi-wan, who had not yet begun to follow his Padawan.

“We need to talk, Obi-wan.”

“That seems to always be the case with us.” Obi-wan smirked, shaking his head and looking away for a moment. He could not bare to hear another round of thoughts summarizing the assured fate that was before them, especially today of all days…he just needed to be able to tell himself that the few days they had together before he returned to Coruscant would be days he would never forget, rather than regret.

“There you go again.” Padme shook her head with a near-growl, annoyed at his joking tone and certain sarcasm as she had approached him out of the full desire of her heart. “When do you return to Coruscant with the Council?” She then asked, her voice now softer and gentler, as though in suffering. Obi-wan watched her, transfixed…wanting nothing more than to cup her small and soft face in his hands and admire it for a lifetime of peace.

“Two days time, at most.”

“So soon?”

“We’ve already overstayed out visit.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” She said somewhat playfully, then cleared her throat, shifting her gaze for a split second. In that second, Obi-wan mused and pondered what she could possibly be thinking…did she want to forever cut their bonds, their communication? Or could she possibly be feeling any amount of turmoil near to Obi-wan’s own? “I’m so sorry.” She said, sighing. Before Obi-wan could speak, she stepped to him and slipped her arms around his neck, drawing him into a warm and tight embrace he could not help but become victim to. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and taking in the moment…so she did want to be beside him, after all, and she had been missing this…with alarm, he realized that her handmaidens were still present, and he moved to pull out of her reach.

“No…they know, it’s fine, Obi-wan.” She insisted, pulling him in yet again. Obi-wan could not shake his feeling of uneasiness, but he knew that moments like these had become scarce, and he would not take advantage of such an opportunity. Anakin had turned the corner and was out of view, the council was occupied…they were nearly alone, and at least were safe for the time being.

“I can’t stand this.” She whispered into his cloak. Obi-wan reached his hand up and stroked his hand across her face gently…he was the cause for her suffering, just as she was his. “What will I do when you leave?”

“Hopefully not forget.” He chuckled, drawing in a glare of momentary wrath from her, though his words were serious. “As long as you don’t forget this, there’s nothing to fear when we’re apart.” Padme nodded with a discontented sigh and finally drew herself out of their embrace.

“I need to go prepare for the parade.”

“I will walk at your side.”

“Of course.” She nodded, thankful that the arrangements the council had made had managed to place them right beside each other conveniently. Obi-wan grimaced a bit as he attempted to smile…this might be the last moment before however many months…years….decades past until the Force united them again. And yet, they could not even be together in that future, as they could not be together now…would she still wait? And then what was she waiting for- there was no further step in their relationship they could take!

“Until then.” Obi-wan said, holding her hands in his. Padme nodded and surprised him yet again by stepping back into his arms and drawing him in to the first kiss he had ever received, her lips gently upon his in the moment that would seal their fate…

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Anakin watched in shock and disappointment as his new master kissed Padme…Anakin had thought he had been in love with her. He had thought that maybe someday, even though he knew somewhat it wouldn’t be allowed on his behalf of being a Jedi…they could be together, the difference in their age didn’t matter in the least. Obi-wan couldn’t hold her, he couldn’t kiss her- it wasn’t allowed, was it? Anakin would never do something to endanger Obi-wan’s life as a Jedi- but Obi-wan was supposed to be his friend, not just his master. Perhaps Obi-wan didn’t know about Anakin’s feelings for Padme…he just liked her as well…no matter. They would be apart soon, they all would. Neither of them could have Padme; it was just too clear and certain in their fate.

Anakin sighed and continued to walk down the hall, knowing he hadn’t been seen and deciding he was glad about it…let Obi-wan love Padme as well, what harm could it do? Neither of the Jedi could really get away with it. It was just a kiss. A kiss Anakin had thought would be his, someday. But there was still hope, there was always hope- isn’t that what the Jedi believed? He wouldn’t hold it against Obi-wan…he’d believe that his master’s flirtatious desires would pass and not return…but not at his own expense. Not at all.

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Confetti, coins, and candies were flowering through the air like a fresh spring rain to accompany the sound of the Gungan marching squad playing their rejoicing tune. Hundreds of people lined either side of the main road in Theed, cheering and sending up loud whistles as the festivity began by the initiating sound of a large, hollow cymbal being clanged in a loud din of immaculate music. Faces lit every window of the homes over looking the busy street, and many people had even clamored onto low roofs for a better view of the rarity below them. Aiwhas soared overhead, squawking and whistling then circling back to repeat their routes, as though enjoying the idea of showing off their sophisticated wings and flight patterns. The parade began all at once as a large, trained Flumpaset began to march down the street, the Nubian flag draped over his back and his sides decorated in jewels and pennants. On either side of him the elaborate Nubian guards marched, their royal, silver pistols held at their sides. Behind them came the dancers, moving in swift and flaccid movements of graceful alignment to the rejoicing and triumphant music of the Gungans, their violet and red velvet garments sliding in the slight breeze to add to their poetic atmosphere.

“Ready, milady?” Obi-wan asked with a grin, looking over at Padme, who looked marvelously stunning for the merriments. She had chosen a royal but less elaborate gown of white with a feathered back and long train, and her face was once again white but highlighted by the red markings of royalty. Obi-wan wore his trademark tan garments and dark brown cloak, and Qui-gon’s lightsabre was pinned at his hip in its new position of authority. Together the two were mounted upon royal white Shaaks and were waiting for their turn to march in the parade, which would come as soon as the rest of the dancers cleared out of the pavilion they were waiting under and allowed room for their troupe to move forward. Anakin was sitting upon the same Shaak as Obi-wan, holding on to his master’s waist carelessly and looking around with large eyes at everything that was passing their way. His new Padawan braid hung against the sweat on his neck, and he pushed it back with frustration, causing Obi-wan to laugh lightly…he was thankful those days were past for him! A dozen guards and the Queen’s handmaidens were to follow in the march behind them, led by Captain Panaka…they made up the Nubian crew that was meant to support the award of peace to Boss Nass and the rest of the Gungan dignitaries.

“I hope so. You look nervous though.” She pointed out with a grin, pointing at how his knuckles were turned white in his hard grip on the reins of the Skaak.

“I don’t trust these blasted things.” He admitted with a shrug towards the Shaak beneath him, but it was far too late to go back now, for the dancers had cleared out onto the street and there was now room for the Queen and the two Jedi to move forward in the walk. If the streets could have grown any louder, they most certainly did at the site of their beloved Queen Amidala, for a new eruption of cheers and whistles sprang forth. She laughed beautifully and waved gently as they rode, looking perfectly composed and at home with all the business surrounding her. Obi-wan grinned to feel that Anakin was also waving behind him, flopping his arm around at the unfamiliar faces and cheering as well in return…Obi-wan could not deny him the childish moment.

“Come on, Obi-wan,” Padme laughed, glancing over at him with her Queenly smile. “Have some fun with it.”

“Easy for you to say,” he commented sarcastically, his character cynical grin springing up as he shook his head at her youth. Seeing Master Yoda and the other Jedi standing silently in the crowds, he nodded his head deeply and felt out their presence with his own, greeting them. He felt an acknowledgement within and felt the liberty to precede past them, though he did nudge Anakin with his elbow and mutter,

“The Jedi Council, Anakin.”

“I know.” Anakin nodded towards them, but was still smiling. Obi-wan shrugged and laughed a bit- who couldn’t help but live out the beautiful and peaceful moment? It was a dare where nothing could seem to go wrong, except perhaps an over zealous Shaak- like Obi-wan’s. It was fueled by the attention and kept moving ahead in the crowd, moving at a faster pace and getting feisty with its reins.

“Blasted thing,” Obi-wan cursed, pulling at the reins and putting his hand on the creatures neck to allow some of his calmness to flow into it. It submitted for a moment and followed Obi-wan’s order, returning back to the laughing Padme’s side with a snort before beginning to continue at a near trot again, heading straight for the dancers.

“Whoa!” Anakin whooped, alarmed. His grip around Obi-wan had become so firm that Obi-wan coughed a few times before realizing he needed to get the Shaak under control before the parade was turned to chaos. The Nubian dancers screamed and moved out of the arrogant Shaak’s way, attempting to keep their formation but victim to the fact that they had fallen unorganized. Obi-wan ground his teeth, ignoring the laughter of the crowds on either side- so much for appearing as a well-practiced Jedi knight on his first real day as one. He jerked back on the reins and forcefully tightened his legs around the fuzzy Shaak, which let out a groan and returned the vengeance by beginning to buck. “Stop this thing!” Anakin pleaded, his voice jerked by the momentum underneath him and upraised to overcome the din of the crowds.

“Well I’m trying!” Obi-wan yelled back. “Here, take the reins.” With that, he slid from the bucking Shaak’s side, leaving Anakin atop of it, and gripped its snout with both his hands. It shook his head defiantly, trying to worm out of the Jedi’s grasp, but Obi-wan wouldn’t have it. “Enough, you blasted thing!” Obi-wan grunted. At least, the Shaak had had enough of his momentary fame, and it submitted. The crowd clapped a bit, amused at the taming, and then returned their attention to the slowly progressing parade to leave Obi-wan and Anakin to their humiliation. Obi-wan held it in place until Padme caught up on her Shaak, looking at her with rolled eyes, knowing it had been her bright idea to ride Shaak’s in the first place…her mischievous grin reflected that perhaps she had purposely placed them on such stubborn creatures. He chose to remain on the ground, where he felt he could better control the two creatures, and continued to walk between the two Shaaks on which Padme and Anakin were riding, his hands on either one’s neck.

“Oh, come on, Obi-wan, you can’t miss out on all the adventure.” Padme laughed, exchanging an ornery glance with Anakin.

“You, milady,” he said sourly but with a smile. “Are supposed to be a Queen, not a comic and mischief maker.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.” She said unconvincingly before dutifully returning her gaze towards the people. At long last, Obi-wan could see the steps leading to the ceremony raise on which the peace token would be given to Boss Nass, and he gratefully handed over the reins of the two Shaaks to servants upon reaching the bottom of them. He turned to Padme, who was still mounted, and bowed deeply before holding up his hands to help her down. She slid down gracefully and thanked him with an adoring but hidden gaze before moving towards the top of the steps. Obi-wan helped Anakin down and the two followed her, taking their place beside Captain Panaka and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine who were looking down the street with anxious eyes. The great Gungan dignities, including Boss Nass, had come into site. JarJar and the other Gungan generals followed closely aboard their equally odd-appearing mounts, and upon dismounting JarJar got caught in the reins and nearly stumbled. The climbed the stairs together and Padme stepped forth in her white gown, taking the mystical and attractive globe of peace and placing it in Boss Nass’ hands softly. She then stepped back and allowed him to uphold the globe and cry out dramatically, so that all the crowds could hear,

“Peace!” If ever a din so loud met the streets of Theed, it was then, for every lung was cheering in victory over their decades of miscommunication and dislike. Padme grinned, her eyes dancing, and looked to Anakin to see his reaction- Anakin was not distracted by the glorious site of the triumphant crowds, but was merely grinning at Padme with the special glint in his eyes that suggested a possible crush. Padme stepped back into formation beside Obi-wan and the Chancellor Palpatine, her face aglow with slight pride at what her people could be led to accomplish in dire times.

“Isn’t it amazing?” She asked Obi-wan quietly, still grinning out into the crowds. Obi-wan looked at her, smiling through closed lips down at her…she was amazing, that was for certain. How long would he have to wait until he could tell her so for the entire world to hear? Not long…but rather an eternity. He could never do so while he was a Jedi, and therefore he could never do so at all.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

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Obi-wan’s steps were heavy…the last day on Naboo. To make matters worse, Anakin was slumping beside him as well, his face downcast and his shoulders heavy. He would sigh every once in a while, suggesting an unspoken burden, but Obi-wan didn’t need to ask him what was bothering him…it was the same thing that was upon Obi-wan’s shoulders. Padme…how long would it be before they could see her again?

“Anakin, cheer up,” he said unpersuasively. “We’ll remain in contact.”

“I know.” Anakin sighed yet again, and Obi-wan chose to ignore the discontented glance Anakin sent his way. It wasn’t as though Obi-wan could do anything about their relocation- the Jedi’s place was on Coruscant, at the temple, until the council sent them elsewhere. “What’s this about?” Anakin asked, his tone still pained as he questioned why they were approaching Master Yoda’s quarters for another session with the council. Obi-wan pondered and explanation that he lacked- he hadn’t the faintest clue. All the arrangements for departure had been made, all the plans for the final meeting with the politics…and yet Master Windu had plainly ordered Obi-wan to come as soon as possible, despite whatever he had been in the middle of.

“To be honest, I haven’t a clue. It seems odd to me as well.” Obi-wan shrugged and released his own pathetic sigh.

“Come in, come in,” Yoda hailed them from the doorway just ahead, his green ears being the first thing to enter their vision as he turned the corner towards them. Obi-wan smiled faintly as he entered Yoda’s chamber, which had impressively been arranged to look similar to the council room at the temple…all the chairs were arranged in a large, comfortable circle, and blinds had been drawn open to shed the setting sun on their meeting. Anakin bowed deeply, and Obi-wan followed in tow, pleased to see that his Padawan was finally getting the idea of recognition and respect.

“Take a seat.” Windu told them, gesturing towards two empty chairs across from him in the circle. Obi-wan sat down and crossed his legs, leaning back comfortably. Sitting in on the council was something he hadn’t done often- his senses immediately shifted to alert…they must have something important to say, something to assign them- but so soon? Anakin hadn’t even begun his exercises!

“Obi-wan, do you recall Qui-gon being sent on a diplomatic mission to Kashyyyksome years ago?”

“To the Wookiees?” Obi-wan asked with his eyebrows raised. He had never visited their home planet himself, but Qui-gon had returned with many a story to tell of the exotic and outlandish planet and its inhabitants. “Yes. He was to oversee a pact for alliance between the Jedi and the Wookiees, as there had been some disruption in agreement for some time…Master, what’s this about?” The younger Jedi was having a hard time contemplating what could possibly involve the Wookiees, as there had grown to be a great peace between the Jedi and them, and he imagined Anakin was absolutely befuddled as well. Mace Windu exchanged a glance with Yoda and a few of the other members of the council.

“Wish to assign you your first mission, we do. To the planet Kashyyyk, you must go, and your new Padawan you will take.” Yoda informed him. Obi-wan breathed in deeply, unsure whether he had released a sigh of relief or of difficultly…he had worried this would happened; that the council would assign him a mission so soon and expect Anakin to follow in tow. Undoubtedly they were still unsure of Obi-wan and Anakin’s capabilities on their own and wished to test them by this small trial- but the Wookiees?

“But I thought that we already had firm alliances there…” Obi-wan mused, leaning forward and unfolding his legs to limply rest his elbows overtop of them.

“We do- the alliance you are to oversee is not ours. Queen Amidala wishes to expand this new era of peace between her people and outer federations- the Wookiees are valuable allies and though there has never been disruption between Kashyyyk and Naboo, she wishes to form that pact and build relationships that will later prove trustworthy and helpful to her people, even if she is not in reign at the time.” Mace Windu informed Obi-wan simply, his body still and stiff with no hand gestures to express his meaning. Obi-wan’s heart burned in his chest and he fought to control his emotions, knowing they would be exposed before the great Jedi before him and his reeling feelings would be unmasked. Did this mean that he and Anakin were to be granted more time with Padme? As though answering his question, Windu continued. “Though we have advised her that she should remain here and send ambassadors to form the treaty, she wishes to show the Wookiees that she is willing to take great steps between them. You will be sent with her to oversee the agreement and further protect her, though the risk of assassination is fairly diminished.”

“And meanwhile, train your Padawan, you must. Begin to show him the force, and observe you always, he must.” Yoda solemnly offered, nodding his obtuse green head towards Anakin, whose face had suddenly been uplifted by the council’s words. Obi-wan nodded and stood, gesturing for his apprentice to follow in his steps and he made his way towards the center of the room and bowed deeply once again.

“We will return to Coruscant as soon as the pact is made and the Queen is safely home. Thank you for entrusting me with this task.” He offered, smirking somewhat. Windu returned a grim and fleeting expression of approval and then spoke for all the council as he said,

“No thanks is in order- you are a Jedi Knight, it is your place to be capable of such things. Remain in contact with the Capital, all transportation and communication is being well provided by the Queen. You are to see her Captain for information on departure. May the Force be with you.”

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“Yippee!” Anakin cheered as they were out of hearing range of the Council quarters. Obi-wan grinned down at him, sharing in his joy…so they would not be parting with Padme just yet, after all. He wondered if she knew that she had been assigned a Jedi protector…and if she knew it was him…or perhaps she had even requested it to be so. Obi-wan wished to go to her and seek out answers to his questions, or perhaps to merely just hold her for lack of understanding. “Can we go see her?” Anakin asked excitedly, his pace gaining speed at the thought. Obi-wan placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, laughing a bit.

“In a while. For now, you and I need to discuss our itinerary for your training.”

“Oh boy.”

“Oh yes.”

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What a strange coincidence- or convenience, for that matter, that Anakin fell asleep shortly after the discussion concerning their schedule was terminated. He had been sitting upon his bed, Obi-wan had been kneeling on the floor below him…a great weariness had overcome the boy’s features, and in a moment’s time Obi-wan had been laying his new apprentice back onto the bed and pulling off his boots. Some how he hadn’t imagined that this would be in the job description, Obi-wan mused with a smile as he left their dim chambers and entered the corridor. He felt a pang of guilt and knowing he would be going to see Padme only after Anakin was asleep and occupied, but then again, the two of them would soon have plenty of time with her on their mission to Kashyyyk.

“Jedi Kenobi,” one of Padme’s handmaidens greeted him in the dimly lighted atmosphere of the hall. She had been leaning against the wall just down the hallway, looking bored but dutiful, and now stood straight up and approached him with a bowed chin. Obi-wan nodded to acknowledge her, curious to her presence. “Milady wishes to see you.”

“Good, I was just on my way there.” Obi-wan offered, moving to continue his brisk walk with even more anxiety in his step. The handmaiden stepped to walk beside him, continuing her hushed but patient tone by saying,

“But sir, she wishes to see you in the gardens.”

“…Oh…” In the gardens? He sighed- more secrets. He dismissed the handmaiden and turned around in the hall, approaching the elevation unit that would take him directly outside of the courtyard. Obviously, she still wanted to be with him, or she would have found some way to navigate around having him as her guard for the weeks to follow. And then there was the night of Qui-gon’s cremation, where she reached so far as to take his hand in public, though her gesture was well hidden…it could have been the small gesture of a friend mourning for another friend’s suffering, but there was something in the way her eyes had never faded from the adoring stare she had begun to share with him. He turned into the courtyards, which were lit by floor lights of deep scarlet and azure and also by the ever-present lights of the city surrounding them. She was waiting by the brick wall where they had been together during their last private meeting, wearing a casual gown of scarlet that fell off of her shoulders and laced down around her fingers intricately. Her hair was pulled back and looped through a great golden ring, but several ringlets escaped and framed her porcelain face flawlessly.

“Milady.” He greeted, remaining at a distance with his hands folded in front of him- after all, he was still unsure what she expected of him. She turned to face him, and a smile burst forth accompanied by adoring eyes that gave Obi-wan what he had hoped for.

“Obi-wan- did the Council-“

“Yes.” He grinned, approaching her. She opened her arms up and drew him in close, nestling her head between his neck and shoulder. She longed for his company as much as he had been longing for hers, and the idea was so relieving that Obi-wan could not resist but to release a small sigh of relief and happiness. He closed his eyes, content for the time being in knowing that for the following few weeks, he would have nothing but opportunities for moments much like the one he was dwelling in now. Or so he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes course over episodes I through III. Obi-Wan begins to lose himself in a battle against falling in love with a woman he can never truly stand beside, and his dedication to the Jedi Code. His relationship with Qui-Gon, his honesty with Anakin...

Chapter 8

When your heart becomes the grave of your secrets, that desire of yours will be gained more quickly. The prophet said that anyone who keeps secret his inmost thought will soon attain the object of his desire. When seeds are buried in the earth, their inward secrets become the flourishing garden.

-Mevlana Rumi

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A cool breeze filtered and shifted through the morning atmosphere as Obi-wan peered out over the breathtaking capital with concentration imbedded deep in his brow. His arms were hidden deep in the sleeves of his brown cloak, and one heel was placed over the other in a comfortable and balanced position. Could it have been only a few short days ago that he and Padme had held each other in the hall and feared for never seeing one another again? The notion seemed as impossible as realizing that in three hours’ time they would be boarding a consular-class cruiser together and trekking across the galaxy on little more than a pleasure flight. True, the ship was unorthodox for a Queen’s travel, but the Jedi counsel advised on not traveling in a Nubian cruiser for subtleness’ sake. Obi-wan didn’t mind. The Republic ship could hold sixteen passengers, and since the cargo bay would be nearly empty (excluding their luggage, which consisted mostly of Padme’s queenly wardrobe), Obi-wan would have plenty of room for Anakin’s drills.

A rich pastel sky was beginning to flood the windows of the city with soft fingertips despite the presence of the moon to the opposing horizon…Theed truly was a glorious city, to be envied by the industrial rivals of the capital. Obi-wan hadn’t had such beautiful accommodations since- well- ever. Jedi’s weren’t adapted to comfort, and the feathery, velvet beds had made him retreat to the floor after only an hour of tossing restlessly. Just one more reason why he and Padme should be incompatible…their personalities were entirely perpendicular, like misshapen puzzle pieces fatefully created to lay in juxtaposition. If Obi-wan hadn’t submitted to the vague idea of his feelings for her, he would have been ashamed to admit that it was she and not the force that filled and completed him now.

Soft footfall on the marble floors of his chamber behind him alerted his senses, and he closed his eyes to cleanse his thoughts of Padme. If this was one of his masters come to pay him a farewell, he could not reveal the absence of his caution and betray himself, especially so soon in this opportunity. He turned his chin the slightest, opening his eyes and caught off guard to see that the very object of his thoughts had materialized from seemingly nowhere. Padme was already dressed in her traveling garbs, once again under the handmaiden disguise until they reached Kashyyyk. The light blue robes suited her best, Obi-wan thought. They made her porcelain complexion radiate in the rose reflection of the dawn, which also fragmented tiny orbs of lavender into her deep chocolate gaze. Powers of the force, she was beautiful.

“Jedi Kenobi.” She greeted, and Obi-wan was about to dismiss her formality and embrace her until he noted a sleep-deprived Anakin wandering in behind her, his golden locks askew and his braid looking frayed behind his ear. “I seem to have woken your padawan.”

“Good, I was just about to do that myself.” Obi-wan said honestly. Anakin was in for a rough awakening: the boy’s real Jedi training would be on Kashyyyk, and would be more than just memorization and pacing of meditation. Becoming a Jedi meant more than just altering a lifestyle, it meant profound commitment and spirit-breaking personal sacrifice, not to mention extreme physical challenges at times. At least Anakin wouldn’t have to adhere to abandoning all his material possessions: the boy had none to forsake.

“Anakin, let’s try an hour today, shall we?” An hour of silent meditation was nothing for Obi-wan until lately. It seemed that Padme had robbed his mind of all solitude and benevolence: he was absorbed by her presence, her face, her response to his feelings. No wonder there could be any peace with emotion…Obi-wan as waging against an emotional warfare whenever Padme’s face found his minds eye.

“Yes, Master.” Anakin bowed, his expression revealing his anxiety to impress Padme, and he backed away to kneel in the foyer of he and Obi-wan’s joint chambers. Padme pursed her lips, withholding a threatening smile of amusement, and then moved to stand beside Obi-wan. Together, they moved to lean against the brick guard of the balcony, observing the waking city in shared silence for a moment. What was she thinking? It seemed that Obi-wan could never predict if she truly felt for him the same sort of desperation he felt for her whenever she was away, and his loss left him panicked and knotted.

“Ready for departure, milady? I suppose the Queen is anxious to begin the treaties with the Wookiees.” Obi-wan said lightly, his voice conversational and uncharacteristic of his expression, which watched her with the slightest trace of adoration in his smile. Padme shifted under his gaze, eying Anakin over her shoulder before replying. If Obi-wan couldn’t realize that there were easier ways to betray their secrets than just verbal admittance, they were going to be in trouble.

“She is. I’m excited, I’ve never seen Kashyyyk.” Padme responded and dropped her voice, barely moving her lips as she let her eyes follow the busy passageway of the cruisers zooming below. “You don’t look well. Are you alright?”

“Restless night. Blame it on your comfortable accommodations.” He smirked sarcastically, his voice dry yet playful. Padme’s eyes shifted to his face, which looked drawn and older in the dim morning light of Theed…she was no fool to discomfort, though she was a queen. She had been in a constant state of worry for Obi-wan since Qui-gon’s passing, and the fact that he had been so deprived of sleep in the past few days only increased her anxiety over the matter. Of course, there were countless things for the Jedi to be worried about, their relationship being one in the bracket for the most dangerous to dwell upon. What were they doing? As often as Padme swore to herself they could keep this silent and inward, the young Queen had been having her own share of alarming dreams concerning her removal from the throne and Obi-wan’s rejection from the Jedi order. They were treading in water that knew how to feed on their fears, and holding onto one another only seemed to make the treading more difficult. Could there be no compromise? If only she didn’t feel so positive that she would do anything to be with him.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been there myself.” Obi-wan continued in a louder tone, his feelings and connection to the force making him consciously aware that Anakin’s meditation was no more than a well disguised eavesdropping opportunity. “We need to be careful. Anakin suspects, and though he wouldn’t betray us…he cares for you, Padme. You know that. I’m his master, and trust me,” he chuckled through his teeth, shaking his head. “Padawan see padawan do. I saw Qui-gon’s flaws, but they still became mine. I can’t let Anakin make believe that this sort of thing is justified.”

“This sort of thing?” Padme asked, nearly forgetting to hush her voice. She pulled down her blue hood, letting her dark curls pour around her face and over her shoulders. Though her expression was mostly inhibited by a teasing gaze, it also held the bold flame that warned Obi-wan he had begun to walk a thin line. “Sorry, Jedi Kenobi, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Milady,” Obi-wan countered with his own formality, pulling up his brown hood over his face just to defy her previous gesture. “You know what I mean. Please. Qui-gon would have wished for me to be as good a master as he was, if not better. I can’t fail Anakin…or Qui-gon.” He glanced away, his pain flushing out the color from his eyes. "I don't expect you to understand."

“Shh,” Padme hushed, her hand finding his and giving it a brief squeeze before letting it fall again. “I'm sorry. You miss him, don’t you?”

Obi-wan swallowed a painful urge to describe to Padme the horrors of having his best friend die in his arms because he hadn’t reached him soon enough, or the pain of hearing his master’s last words be about a young, rash child bringing balance to the force. Instead, he settled on nodding and replacing his arms across his chest, squinting into the sun that had made progress into the lightening, opalescent sky. He still expected Qui-gon to correct his attitude or encourage his patience…but it was slowly sinking into his veins that Obi-wan was now solely responsible for following the code and remaining intuned to the pure flow of the force.

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet about that day,” Padme offered, her tone compassionate and yet broken on its own accord. Obi-wan shifted his eyes towards her, dismayed. Secrets were everywhere between them…he loved a stranger, or so it seemed at times. “Before Qui-gon died…he reached out to me, spoke to me. Told me you needed my help. I came to find you, and you were passed out over his body.”

Obi-wan couldn’t hear this, couldn’t bare this- not now. He turned his back on Padme, not out of anger, but out of shame. Emotion…he had already betrayed his oath to fight it once; he could not dwell on sorrow yet again, especially not with the two most important people to him within such close range. Fingers snaked over his shoulder, and he clasped his hand atop of Padme’s soft wrist to assure he would be fine. To feel was human, but Jedi’s were typically an exception to that generalization…except for now. Obi-wan felt as though he could practically blame Padme for stirring such emotion within him, but he couldn’t sum up any bitterness towards as he was far too busy distributing it upon himself. He couldn’t help feeling that his past failure to deny his emotions would be his failure- and failure was something he couldn’t live with as a burden. He was better than this, he knew it.

“An hour’s up!” Anakin bounded over to them, and Padme’s hand quickly left Obi-wan’s shoulder as they turned to survey the jovial youth. Already? Obi-wan inwardly sighed. Any time spent with Padme soared by all too quickly, as though time itself was jealous of her presence.

\- - -

“There it is, Padme!”

“I see it, Anakin. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“When are we landing?”

“Any minute now.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“We’re just securing things for the queen, Anakin. Focus, settle.” Obi-wan spoke this time, having overheard their conversation as he approached the observation window. Since they had broken the atmosphere, Obi-wan had already been reminded of the strange sort of jungle beauty exhibited by the planet of Kashyyyk. The Wookiees cared less for civilianization and industrialization as they did war craft and nature, and it showed forth as the Republic cruiser circled above the capital…if it was even considered a capital. It seemed the entire planet surface was a green landscape of jungle and forest areas, though decorated by several lakes and rivers that wound their way around its largest green places. Obi-wan hadn’t considered that there would be no appropriate accommodation for a queen…now that he knew Padme, he knew it wouldn’t matter to her, but diplomacy was another thing, as was her safety. She would remain on the ship at night, and there would be no argument.

\- - -

“Jedi Kenobi, you are absolutely correct.” Had Obi-wan heard incorrectly, or was Padme actually submitting to his demands for once? Together, they had just informed the Wookiee ambassadors and chiefs of her disguise, and of the importance behind her misleading strategy that would result in her safety. The Wookiee that seemed most in charge of accommodating the queen found this amusing, but said little beside a series of grunts and roars that translated into, “She will be safe, either way.”

“Good, glad that’s settled.” Obi-wan nodded his approval at Padme’s submittance, unaware that the queen wasn’t finished yet.

“Since my advisors seem so keen on my protection, I suggest we leave my decoy, Sabe, on board. I’ll stay in the village. If anyone around does have any interest in my assassination or harm, they would find it awfully odd for a Queen to sleep outside, don’t you think?” How could she say it so nonchalantly, as though danger wasn’t truly in the picture? Obi-wan cast an arched eyebrow and brief glare towards her, but Padme’s pleased smile did not falter under his stare. How could he have suspected that she might actually submit to his requests, for once? The Wookiees had little else to say about her protection: it was obvious that they had not expected any disruption during the negotiations. An older Wookiee addressed a younger one that he called Chewbacca, ordering that the Queen and her company be led to their reserved sleeping quarters. Obi-wan, followed closely by several of Padme's handmaidens who were dressed in garbs matching to her own, hefted two of the Queen's pieces of luggage over his shoulder and left the third to Anakin. The ground of the Wookiees' home planet was moist, rich, and green with life. Obi-wan prodded his memory, seeking out what Qui-gon had taught him so long ago during their past visit: the surface of the planet could be viewed as good for military means, as the shadowed trees could stretched miles upward to guard the ground from unfriendly eyes. The Wookiees were Kashyyyk's natural inhabitants, and besides them, the planet consisted mostly of dangerous and hostile creatures on the forest floor. For that reason, Wookiees mainly were known to dwell within their adjusted forest life, building their cities within the spacious trees and developing a nearly uncivilized society.

Obi-wan gazed up and down the cobblestone path that was nearly overgrown by the thick, grassy plants at its sides. The atmosphere, unlike the one on Naboo, was a clouded musty shade that guaranteed rainfall. Wookiees cried out in greeting, some shaking staffs high in the air as they noted the arrival of the humans.

"Anakin," he said to his young padawan, who was exuberantly waving in return, oblivious that they were hailing the queen (who wasn't really the queen at all, but Sabe in Padme's royal attire). Seeing the joy written in the boy's features, Obi-wan could not find the power within himself to force him to stop. He would have time for serious and sereneness later. Instead, Obi-wan placed a firm hand on Anakin's shoulder and leaned down a bit so that only the lad's ears would hear his words. "Bear in mind that tomorrow will be the first of your real training. I want you to turn in early, as soon as darkness falls, do you understand?" Anakin made a sour face but nodded...it couldn't be any more obvious that the padawan was eager to explore the strange, jungle planet and spend more time with Padme. Would Obi-wan ever stop feeling like the parent here? Qui-gon had always been like Obi-wan's father, as he didn't remember his birth parents.

Chewbacca spoke in his grizzly like language, gesturing a hairy arm towards a magnificently round tree just up a grassy incline. The tree, shaped at the base rather like a grotesque pear, climbed high into the clouding sky so that its tip were enveloped by the falling mists of the evening air. In contradiction to the nature surrounding the tree, a computerized, armless elevator waited at the foot of the tree to carry the handful of guests upward into the tree's inward base. Obi-wan's instinctively placed his hands on Padme's waist to hoist her onto the elevator, earning himself a soft smile of gratitude that was worth the spare moment that it took to likewise lift the other handmaidens onto the lift, so as not to appear odd. Chewbacca seemed to assume they would make do on their own and left them to their own devices, giving a growling purr in departure. The elevator hissed and carried them upward swiftly. The climb revealed more and more of the tree the higher that they went: branches as thick as three men stretched out in an umbrella fashion, their leaves like small green boats entwined with draping vines and brush. The elevator halted at the end of a clean-shaven branch that had been sawed in half, so that a flat side of the branch was laying upward wide enough for two people to comfortably walk side by side. A large room would fit perfectly amidst the spacious flat that the middle of the tree officered. The plant would be as comfortable as any of the quarters at the capital, Obi-wan decided as he surveyed the rough yet quaint furniture around the makeshift chamber. Stools made from a branch resembling bamboo were scattered besides matching tables and lit torches, and a particularly long table for dining was accompanied by nearly a dozen high-backed chairs of thatch. In the right-hand corner, a dark, oval spot marked the beginning of a stairwell that would carry down into the bowels of the tree, revealing a room for Her Majesty and a room for the Jedi. Only now that the "Queen" was staying on the ship, this room would merely be a dwelling place for Padme and whatever attendants chose to stay with her. To enclose the tree from the drizzly and cool temperature, sheer, seamless glass encased thewhole of the tree's living space in a globe of safety.

After briefly wandering her temporary home, Padme pulled Sabe aside for instructions and loving warning, then the queen's decoy and her maiden's in waiting found their way back to the electric elevator and took their leave. Obi-wan crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows raised- no handmaidens had remained behind with Padme, meaning that would be only the two of them in Anakin.

"Should I request a smaller tree?" He asked, half teasingly. They honestly didn't need something so extravagant: he could tell upon entering the village that most of the Wookiees were accustomed to outdoor sleeping and rougher-styled comfort...he felt lofty in this massive, obviously highly prestigious dwelling. He'd much rather stay down with the Wookiees, sleeping beneath the stars or curled on a solitary branch. Padme didn't respond, ignoring his dry sarcasm and walking back over to her bags to find a loosely fitted gown. Obi-wan and Anakin both surveyed her actions, intrigued by her pickiness and amused by the apparent difficulty she was having in settling on a gown...Obi-wan smiled softly, turning his eyes downward briefly...she would look stunning in anything. Bothered by his ridiculous behavior and overstated thoughts, he turned away and folded his arms across his chest loosely.

"What's wrong?" Anakin asked, turning his eyes from Padme to survey his master. Obi-wan shrugged off his discomfort, glad that Padme hadn't seen his brief gaze (she probably would have seen right through it), and shook his head.

"You may go explore for an hour or so, Anakin, if you like. Just don't make me come looking for you...again." Obi-wan's words pointedly reminded Anakin how he'd been annoyed when the boy had disappeared over the past few weeks of their time together. Anakin missed his master's eye or ignored it as he let out a whoop and practically dove for the elevator, only pausing to look back towards Padme.

"Wanna come?" He asked, not hiding the hopefulness in his voice. Padme looked up, her forehead having been creased as she stared at an emerald gown in her palms. She looked indecisive, then submissive as she opened her mouth to undoubtedly accept the invitation, but Obi-wan cut her off.

"Anakin, the Queen needs her rest," he said, not taking pleasure in the downfall in Anakin's face. He wasn't trying to cut out the boy's time with Padme, nor save her for himself, but Anakin had to stop depending on her company. What a hypocrite I've become. Anakin was about to be severed from Padme for years, he needed to begin living without her company, though the difficultly of her absence would be strenuous. Anakin put on a well practiced pout and allowed the elevator to carry him downward, his eyes unhappy and perhaps even bitter. Obi-wan's eyes followed the lad's golden hair until it was walking down the village street, flopping in the boy's bounce and tossed in the evening breeze of warmth.

"He's a credit to you Jedi." Padme's voice was teasing and coy as she approached him from behind. "The rest of you seem too wise and weathered for a bit of fun." Obi-wan turned smirk towards her, leaning his back against a vertical branch and crossing one heel atop of the other.

"He's no Jedi yet...and besides...better wise and weathered than rash and pompous."

Padme stared at him, lost for a brief moment before her voice struck a sharp note. "Are you calling me...?"

"Well, you are a politician. And I've come to dislike those." The two glared at each other deeply for a moment, each battling against the other's stare, before Obi-wan finally submitted and smiled jokingly to assure Padme he meant no harm. Padme didn't break a smile, but slowly walked towards him, her hands loose at her sides and her shoulders pushed back regally...ah, she was too graceful to pass for a handmaiden.

"What else do you dislike?" She asked softly, reaching him and pausing at a hand's length away. Obi-wan said nothing, now taking his turn at confusion as he stared down into her chocolate brown eyes calmly. Seeing his questioning stare, Padme sighed and turned away, folding her arms beneath her breast. "Obi-wan...I feel like you're a complete stranger to me. Don't you feel the same?" She turned her chin to face him as she spoke then rubbed her arms to calm her involuntary chill. "We're making sacrifices for each other, and yet we truly know nothing of who we each are. I need you closer than just physically, it's not only practical, it's logical. I can't-"

"Padme," Obi-wan cut her off, stepping up behind her and resting his chin deep into the fold of her neck, his arms finding their way around hers. "I am really starting to hate flying as well."

Padme's cheek shifted against Obi-wan's as she smiled. Her logic couldn't win to his humor.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Most Jedi never know there parents." Obi-wan shrugged. Later that evening, after Anakin had returned and tumbled into his bed, Padme and Obi-wan found themselves seated together behind a concealed fire that warmed their feet. Padme was leaned into the fold of Obi-wan shoulder, her face tilted backward to view him as he spoke and her feet crookedly sprawled out towards the warming flames. One of Obi-wan's knees were pulled upward to serve as a resting place for his fee arm, but the other leg was laying outward beside Padme's, his boots reflecting the rich, orange savor of the fire. A glossy, royal shawl hung around Padme's shoulders, and her hair was lying in free curls all around her shoulders. "It severs them from attachment. The Jedi counsel can feel out when a force is particularly strong in infants, so we can usually prevent children from behind taken into the Jedi Temple at too late of an age. That's why Anakin's training is going to be particularly hard, if not potentially dangerous. He has his mother to hold onto, to miss, to focus upon."

"I would have thought that attachment and love would feed strength." Padme reasoned, and Obi-wan was briefly silenced. He couldn't explain to her the difficultly between having her in his life...she couldn't possibly know that the full being of Jedi was to dwell within the force, without exterior distractions and motivations to hinder growth. "And I can't imagine not having known my parents. They geared me towards my political career, and always sought after my best interest. I think I would be producing music if they hadn't shown me my love for the people as a whole..." The passion in her words, the gentility of her spirit...Obi-wan could hardly absorb what she was sharing of her childhood. "Do you ever think of them? What if you had brothers and sisters?"

Again, Obi-wan refrained from speaking, laying his head into Padme's hair and staring into the heat of the fire. Silence didn't dissuade Padme's curiosity, however, and she remained silent until he felt obligated to speak. "Sometimes...but not often. It's easy to not dwell on something that seemingly never existed...I do have a brother though, that I know. Owen...Qui-gon told me when I started to become of age, but until then, I had never known. The knowledge makes no difference to me now."

"I pity you."

Obi-wan sat up with a chuckle, staring over at her with a single raised eyebrow that had become his character mark. "Why's that?"

"To say that knowing you have a brother doesn't affect you, because you've never known him...to say that it's easy to ignore something that seems as though it never existed, but it really did," Padme sat up as well, her face flushed with a focused expression and yet lit with concentration. The handmaiden had shifted back into politician mode. "Couldn't you say the same of many things in life, and yet if they were outside of the morals and ideals pounded into your mind by your code, they would seem hypocritical?"

Obi-wan's eyebrow fell back into place and his smile faded into one of critical misunderstanding. Was she criticizing his lifestyle now, his very beliefs? He was finding it increasingly hard to predict where Padme might lead him next. "If you’re trying to say that the Jedi are narrow minded, I've done a poor job of explaining us, Padme."

"No, Obi-wan," Padme sighed and now rested her head back into his chest, her touch affectionate and yet sad. "I just think that if you're generalizing without even realizing it. You say that about family, but couldn't it be the same of life, love, justice? That's what you're saying, that if a family still dictated by slavery on Tattooine sees freedom, they wouldn't take it, because it's never been they're way before. Does that seem right to you? Does it?" She sounded as though she were taking a standpoint in a political debate rather than discussing Obi-wan childhood with him, and Obi-wan couldn't let anger become an option. She was awakening too much within him at once, and he at least had self control enough to know when meditation demanded the most of him. He came to his feet, letting Padme's head gently slide from his chest as he rose. At the moment, there was nothing he needed more than to sit in darkness and concentrate on the force rather than his feelings.

"You'd best get some rest, Padme, I meant what I said earlier to Anakin."

"Obi-wan-"

"There's no reason to apologize." He still was Jedi enough to not harvest bitterness against her acting like what she was- a politician. What would Qui-gon think of Obi-wan's inability to fight away his short fuse? "I need to be more mindful of my thoughts, at the moment, so if you'll excuse me."


End file.
